Keys misplaced from billions of pockets—
open the rusty lockets
piling under bridges;
rockets,
for the palm wide enough to hold them

Bulging eyes are folded
in a chamber slowly dimming like bruises;
black and white,
backs against the walls,
coating palates in dry, brackish tones,
a charcoaled conversation.

The same echoes whipping against skin,
ripping the same warm bodies thin,
the same red-brick teeth
raking the cold, bleached soil

As the ice melts into water,
it is no longer the miner,
who smelts for power;
it's powdered noses that never sweat—
from pounding, bronzed pulses  
too big to leave the net

and as if it’s not enough,
it's stretching out a golden hand,
pelting doubt unto cardboard ceilings,
sealing silky mouths
and plaiting amber limbs,
felted so tightly to cushion Your seat

a.r.