WALKING tHROUGH A LIGHT GREEN ZERO

We're eating mirrors again today,
the most exquisite cactuses
are on our shoulders,
dogs who seem to smile
in our blind spots
are really panting desperately
for life when we turn and light
our darkness to find them,
we thought we were desperate for experiences
that have made little difference now
they have happened, everything that carries
the dirty fur of daylight
is now going bald with strained deliberateness,
the bones of a beloved lizard decorate
the dresser in an ex-lover's bedroom
and the dashboard of a scrapped car
simultaneously, three pairs of eyes
stare at them from three places
at once and create with their staring
a fourth, then nimbly lizard bones
crawl around on the cylinder of
a misshapen model of earth
in the skin that once covered them,
someone is eating tinfoil, someone is not.