[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 me .
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.