sandpaper heart beneath velveteen breasts
I can taste hints of confusion on the scent of your breath.
You're closing your eyelids to hold in your soul--
it's smeared on your cheeks and the only
sole light in the room was your shining pupils
like butterscotch candle wax sitting with you under
apocalypse flies in a snow fall of ashes--
A fiery horizon approaches us slowly
but panic is something we've never relied on so I
enter your mouth
to improve your digestion
and you speak me out,
fully developed,
like Athena we are,
but also like Nero
our fiddles::our bodies
while the world
burns down
around us.
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