my spine was assembled clumsily and with an erratic precision of a hand that knows the premeditation of everything the swarm came in the shape of an air conditioner it's the characterizations of overgrown lawns and memory foam on the side of the curb like going to the laundromat instead of church on Sunday I've said this before, repetition lives inside the brain that continues to step over it's own feet foot slowly inching towards my mouth i could kiss you with my ankle if you would the air conditioner buzzes all night like i did that night that i couldn't find the entrance in a place that i wanted to leave take me home in a Chinese take-out box i'll sit in the back of your fridge until you forget i'll grow my own colony, mold malformation on the creases where the warmth should be Sweaty container and you throw me out before Monday's pickup trash along with the expired mustard and mayonnaise oh the missed opportunity, the dedication i could have gone to have given you a stomach ache that leaves you at three in the morning dry heaving your memories that electric buzz stays until it's unwelcome and still it persists so the bees have started to congregate, digress and drink the synthetic honeysuckle it spits they take off, wings of woolly yellow into a breath that i consume by lungfuls i don't know where they're going but that's okay because they keep coming back and it's the permanence of something so flighty that calms the hum