i love the way your bones
        are illuminated when they're
                grafted
      against
        my skin,
                the fear of you
constantly going back into hibernaculum;
your necropolis, innocence small
        remember you took mine
        with my hieratic blouse on
                                unhallowed
                                    little dirt
my mom said, i'll break your legs
        if you chase her, i told her
                i'll
            find
         a wheel chair
for it's our love that bid us both to the same grave
        no matter how cramped;
            no matter how deep gravel covers us
              i will lay here with you