burning unfinished
furniture,
i watch nocturnals
flinch by
flame-
pale and shackled
to chatter
bared in costume
company
fresh from
zoo,
keepers free to
turn away-
free to lean
in too.
stream of conascious
headlights chasing
ride back
home,
half
surprised
screen guy survived the
lapse alone,
stripped steelwork
in ditches
rust
in eyes of
wild kids wanting-
wishing to feel
the shiver
of
what lasts beyond
attraction.
perfect cosmos in
a bubble,
burst by
poison pin,
out of touch with
time vows
pain.
i sigh
deep lunged
and
float back in
thru overstretched
membrane.
hands in the garden 