God's foxholes,
pick your poison,
burn burn burn, and
snare, flesh out an idea
and let it take hold. grit
your teeth, strip the bark
or just strip instead.
cherry, rabid, dragonflies
and headlight eyes.
this dream running us
ragged, this glittering
copper and boil before
you burst.

There is a piece of your skin that refuses to burn.
I keep sinking my teeth into it.

she
           wanted         to        

                        wander,    

               but               could
                                        not             even
fit               through    


                wonderlands door

and
she                            began
                        to                 wonder

                 if          impossible           things


really were
                                  impossible.