“Clues”
You move away.
Hover on the horizon.
Drift how wood.
Bacteria to bacteria,
a glove full of fly eggs,
back to backbone,
let me glide to your velvet
aired-out in everglades
deep freezing meat
in the eye of a crocodile
the crowbar of a profile.
Queen of silent sorrow,
please be sullen to the end of rug burns, sizzling spring legs
sprung frames, the club jesters
rowing off to natural parks,
in the armor of a Minotaur,
on the armoire of a horny princess’s
hoar-frost, the killer of toad skin,
or dry off, your golden body
cooking on a wooden raft
true tales were never left unfastened
heartbeat me through the strips
mummy’s are made to magic
just as flesh-eating cannibals
will light a shot
burning through the ether reality
tantalizing skeletons
from their humorous
backstabbing cages
the porthole porpoise knows
you never really lit a flame
to get better
half the dungeon’s all enraged
without us.
nicholauspatnaude 
Leave a Reply