My head on a bony shoulder
All joints and points and edges,
I'm only half interested in the way this feels
The mind is even fresher, I can smell what you're thinking
It smells like meat
Like boy, like fire, like chimney, like ***** music, censorship, like man.
Still, as I look up at you
I can only taste the trampoline my heart bounces on
Babe, what is flying when you are a child?
They tell me falling is even worse.
These days, I wear my running shoes when I stand in love
Did you know that, bony shoulder boy?
I suppose you'd never ask.
Too busy paving highways in your mind, silly boy
I've made my way through gravel, still embedded in each hand - see?
A brain with pathways and sidewalks is too glamorous for me
See your arms gloved in tar
See the sweat of knowledge piling pillars
Who can touch you without something sticking?
Tongue to the trampoline type friction
Who can understand you, boy? Highways crossing over like veins
You are all the trains I'm running late for.
I wish I could ask you where you would go
if I was going there with you.
You've made it clear you love travelers
And I've made it clear I love bony shoulders and boys in flames
We are neither of all these things.
Like we are of water but not of rain
I've got my running shoes on, and you've got your mechanics outstretched.
Look down at me again, like you did when I asked you if this was okay.
"What is my body?
Bone"