Heads
falling from shoulders
freezing in clouds
up in space
stuck in gutters
necks
not tall enough
to catch sunsets
or
to let lovers
bite through
shoulders
without any devils
or angels
on them
chest
carved out
like graves
and trenches
your beloved dead
nestled forever
like an embrace
hips
that chip concrete
and slam into nudity
as if trying
to kill sperm
before it comes out
legs
that run
or tap
or shake
every
and
anywhere
and feet
so riddled with language
and direction
you’d spend twenty years
just to figure out
how to dance.
