[spf30] sludge sweats off down into crevasses i want to touch. gods break apart in the clammy skin under the folds in your side as you twisted back to meΒ Β .
you handed off a trinket. i took it.
gold was the metal cast in stamen-shape to crown the tight halo around your breath. monday's laundry becomes today's.
back into the tree-shade, where the pollen works its way down your throat- you are wearing pink eyeliner (one way or another.) as we take out our phones, the green- yellow film on everything shines against the backlit paralyzer- they are making artifacts:
like the inexpensive pen> leaching into jeans pockets, down to the zipper. somewhere they are creaking open, lunging at us with next decisions. small, between arm hairs pushed the wrong way- hydrogen-peroxide teeth take shallow indentations in an interrupted ring.
catching sight of this, someone relegates you to weird.
off-guard, you smiled- thunder rang 3 towns over. you fingered your palm where the pencil lead came through the translucent.