A feather tickled your insides, brushing
light green patterns on your bones.
Paisley outlines, dripping paint,
enough to drown out distant groans.

Eleven pints of sea foam paint
spread out across your aching jaw.
I swear it clasped so tight that when
you laughed your lip split open, raw.

Perhaps I'm dusting for fingerprints,
so eager to make a quick arrest.
My nightmares spot you black and gray.
I swat through smoke to find your best.