the gentlest sniper of a smile, through the hallways of my heart roughly running, murder on its heels, the bullets the enticing curve of
teeth!
gnashing with amorphous intent, lent sheen from a wandering or purposeful tongue, happiness abounding its ridges, confined only by
lips!
a sinew to dance the bones of desire! the scar of a scream! blood on a scythe! pouring from the gashed throat of vulnerability —
a quivering, mourning, ravaged heart, unearthed and cleaved, raw against a mountain range of false cheek and false nose and false chin.
and both break me.
