You speak to him
with stars in your mouth
and nothing happens
in the right order.
The days you wear poppies
and nobody wants to kiss your neck.
The days you douse yourself in fire
and too many people
want to know your name.

Oh, the things you would beg to do
to his body. If anyone could challenge
the pull of the moon
it would be you and your hips.
But there will be no novas
erupting on your tongue
tonight. You are darkness
and you are light. You are terrified
and you are terrifying.

You are better than this.
You were supposed to be better than this.
The sky begins to fall on your shoulders
and he wants to know why
you are blinking,
why you would not want
to see all of it
as it happens.

- miniature bridges