he : his lemon fist & acorn knees who circles like a vulture at the door of heaven she : her vanity & mountain bones sometimes cloaked in opals, sometimes rose & they : hearts like pincushions, cruel & pretty as a ruby-red sundown weasel-guards ; gem-seekers ; war-slick words that spread like lichen 'cross the cold stone of an unholdable hand & when, (the audience asks) as night knocks, is that fallen fruit not benevolent? they : creepy-crawly like pharaoh ants reopening each other's wounds she : counts her sins pinky finger to pinky finger, a wingspan that <> wide he : still spitting venom green into an ecosystem lost to his own drool swears on god he knows it—even believes it— but if heaven is earnest, then gutter boy, the ax is already on its way
Toxic
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Lizzy Burnam 🐞 
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