a crocheted heart happens in oleander

sprouts

fury of you, forgets the stray brush of tipped fingers

I certainly can’t if you could forget as in the moment of pace

between glass

black now bloodless links of a bathroom break patch work in juke forts and dirty teams

your body with my body the numbers the shade of rocks lucent now, the silver summer bonnet in your scarf

.

we make or match the balance of a whole, trees because they have jaws

extract preferring to watch the day of yours where the muscle lies in normal clothes dressed in a tie

a fucking wish and a poem, white because of drums

the letter is a small footnote fang in a fence with legs

curled to the left bone

boiled because it is tired of hardening