no such thing when it comes to you. fill up the holes inside my cartilage with your dew eyes,
cup my face in your hands, the ones that can hold up galaxies, and create me over
and over, steal my breath from between my ribs and cast it across oceans of skin.
drown me, feed the firestorm in my stomach with gasoline. there are trappings
of light within your pupils as if you are a black hole, creation in reverse:
vaporize me, i am blind to it.
