Parabiotic Chick

She stands above me sporty and tennis mouthed with alkaline interrogation No, I've never been  Thrills twitch me awake gulping down a globe of light in my throat but visitation hours run short Shoulderblades jut out of her racketeering armspan Just let me look at you All organic heliophobe Cleanse my trachea with sun spots through mesh The ball balancing  on my heaving chest  

Some fractured bird left behind on the steeple  To be turned on its side Spilling red crown drowning in bodega beer German shepherds peek  above the body of a caliper jaw cut slack In naloxone pavillions where hunched over amelic hands  caress each claret quill   Heedful to each chrome snap  of a stake puncturing through  the vomit bags

Firing pin i prod at dead skin on unkissed lips watching the hair stand watch of lighthouses upon wounded forearms invited to a kickback pooling up in each eye socket alarm sound loss of grip while switching songs  somewhere ahead of me