vacant plates and empty stomachs sneer
Through their glossy shine, just having been licked clean
By everything you’ve ever said
Cores strike like drums when they are sincere.
Times your ribs can beat my brains out… so maybe
I shouldn’t lay so close when hearts and
hearts strike together, to make puzzle
the head that stayed so well.
It used to be safe to sit on my glass chest,
that keeps the papers of yesterday.
They still read the same, just invite a different sense to stay.
Like showing embryonic love in letters (lost in box.);
It’s the one drop that stains blue lines and ink
for every hundred that sit and burn my cheeks.
But the dust kids don’t recognize when the shower turns on,
just that while in the tub… they are wet
The salt in their eyes scald them more
In their shallow tummies, then their blind
Glass balls could ever stomach