too many earthquakes behind these eyes, too many planets between the seconds, stretching out the soil spoken to be beneath my ear.

i've poisoned myself with the moon taken to a lung.

i wish but there's noise. steam can't clean it because i'd have to eat through my skin, sweat. sweat because i'd cut through this stomach.

pulling teeth, pulling teeth, pulling teeth, and with this poise, i am so far away. so lonely in my head. it doesn't make sense. it's shattered perfect glasses of milk. it's knuckles stretched out over skin, all of time. it's bleeding from the elbows. my neck is a math book, or necklines deserving of trust, an angle to a painting, of a window of the world.

Machine! close off your limbs, string yourself up to the sheets. wreck of sun spots, cold winter iron, bones splintered, chasing the back of tired skull. the sound keeps: moss moves upon the tooth, for i have remained too long.