, and affix me with your radiance
to count all six of my fingers
(including the plumpness of my toes as they grow
on wide-eyed weeping trees) in the land of lakes
where the mountains are smooth like butter.

you see,
baby,
my lifeline connects to the cracks of my eyes
now noticeably deeper
and when i hold you my hands are just points of view.
and when we cant think of anything to say
you
Know
that
the raindrops of heavy expanses
are strained in our exchanges.
so sing to me with your fragmented lips
before the individual peels split into birds
flying away,
with