His forehead was a fissure caused by an earthquake
and his eyes rolled like eggs in a pickle jar
and below were bags like basketball hoops
and when he cried it was tar
         And his teeth were eggshells in a tomato soup
and his mouth was a mine where canaries went to die
and his tongue rolled up like a terrible salmon
and when he spoke he sighed
         And his neck was a spring with a tennis ball on
and his chest was a coffin with a soft voice inside
and his lungs were spaceships lost at sea
and with every breath came the tide
         And his arms were shotguns with the ends sawed off
and his hands were tables scratched in with a compass
and his fingers were toes that screamed in the dark
and everything he touched turned to glass
         And his legs were pylons standing in water
and his thighs were two balloons rubbing together
and his knees were hot twisted car steel
and he drove with one foot on the wheel

She was an apple with the core cut out.
And like a blackbird, he'd eaten the seeds.