just talk

Nights of sticky skin, swelling bones,
a body snatcher
thought catcher
reaching for my brain with cuts of stone.
I hear them rattling in your breast pocket
Clueless moans
or not,
I can see it coming through paper eyelids,
a lucid dream.

Sweat against thirst,
drink it throat-deep, stay asleep, stay put.
You saw me first with city lights
crawling at my feet
wrapped in yellow white
highways and beating blood.
I grabbed a muddy heart from your open chest
the gleaming ribs
a rusty shipwreck off some forgotten shore.

What will force these scenes away.

Dark rooms
in the day, stay
until my hair forms a circle
a golden brown or soft ground or grave.
Paper lids,
across glass eye beads.


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