mouth to mouth-
crystalline tiny cubes of light
into tasting pieces of acid and spill them all over
your black spaghetti straps
tugging at the bottom of your machine washable
dungeons
you purr words of inconsolation and inconsequence  
stream-line savior
savour the swift
elongated tongues
of amateurs -
sky machines
sent to lick the blood right off my feet
and from the streets-
swimming into the soft-tailed waterfalls that spill over
cavernous eyes