consoles stained with blood
within the cemetary forehead,
I'll be waiting, you dress
to find out what force
unlaced my wings, wrap me
in the net of my instruments
droning, remember the costumes
standing between us melt off
in the last stunned light
of vertical starburst, you put forth
your lips on a long tendril
from the blood core to support
my alien insides, help me with hands
and feet to find a bright path
up the bedroom wall
where you'll chandelier to greet me,
circuits strung tight and tender
around the cunt smog in my lungs,
seed catching in the eyelashes
that flicker from a liquid
of fine curved belly, ashen birds
peripheral to my tunnel stare
in flocks of your deathless reach
emerging.