Arizona sunrise a leaf below his feet,
February tug of war led the rope to feather.
Stuck between pyramids and a desert flat
above sewers of east Brooklyn,
bridges emptied dust to flame.
He covered rice paper with delicate yellow birds,
and tore his clothes to shreds.
Swapped sleep for a girl in faded overalls,
but no flowers from his garden
high amongst the clouds
could match her feathered beauty
so he bought a peppered owl.
The great salt lake shriveled her skin,
the birds heavy flesh hit the ground,
leaving a mark deeper
then the **** on her shoulder.
Still, she stuck to him like syrup
but sweet faded to sun.
Trapped inside a number maze
with dyslexia in reverse,
only shivers of winter to remind
he is as alive as the moons cheekbone
hanging
haunting the sky.
He cried twice that year.
Once when the bees carried feet from honey,
and again when he lost his eyes to the sea.
He wrote love letters to the albino fifth graders older sister
and never once
thought twice.
The sky, a compass
swinging
swaying,
a weeping willow in his veins sobbed until every ounce of blood was salt.
Sinking as fast as his heart
last February
to the crust of the sea.
Perfect shape took form,
he never wondered why.
Open eyes uncovered
folded faded overalls beside a door unopened.
Smile like silk
pulled him into her lips,
swallowed him whole.
Forever he will wade
and wait
in the beehive of her belly.