i.

a dribble of words dropped
past the awkward ankles
like bottle caps waiting to come undone,
and your bone looks ready
to snap (cough a wish, I wish)
from that double helix cage
it is enslaved in.

I watched
while everything unspoken
clung to your spine--
and silence never felt
more stripped.

ii.

a heave of insomnia:

I wonder,
now am I staler than the ceiling
with its corner disguised mouth
hissing in the webs?
the walls moan in response
and I believe they are tired
from watching me.

the sheets are my second skin
posing as a separation between days.
I keep a hand in yesterday.

iii.

the sky must be made of skin
and night, she must have
impaled herself on the skyline
to have so many starry scabs
the pretty scabs
that dissipate in the city.

and I watched
you between the erupting skyscrapers
performing an origami vanish
into your spine--

and hallelujah has never been
more wrong.