Sunday, April 28, 2019

Rubber roll after rubber roll
over a bright pink body.
Sky dome sprinkling glass eyes.
Closets gushing mounds of cloth crumbs
down vibrant stairways.
The high window open
on the rushing branches
has become a scented door.
Trunks reaching past
grey basement music
plunge the fertile earth.
Barrels crunch over a bony mattress.
Armored vessels of temperature-suspended sleet
collide on the attic dance floor.
I thumbtack my paper anatomy
on the headboard above
your sleeping form.
You finger the holes in my little feet
and collapse the red dream.

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