Skeletons spill from your mouth,
from the sinister moon swelling
beneath your wire-threaded chest.
A gift that keeps my head spinning,
a heart stepping over impossibles
for the sake of change, for the sake
of justice though it has no such calling.
I shift to the present, to the fire spiraling
laterally up my incandescent thighs,
a dream fluctuating within a dream.
A revenant sighing in dismissal,
drops all claim to bustling streets.
A shaft of light inches thick roars up
from my upholstered window and you are there
suddenly and without warning.
One death tucked within another,
an engagement that claws its way
spectacularly to the surface though
it has long since passed.
I should have loved you better,
as a pilot loves the sky with
all her incredulous features.
A scrap of cloud held between
the teeth, aloft but in tethers.
Just one touch, the first and the last
I attempted to combine the two Wordles 😄