exoskeletons i cut a hole in your face for the birds to come out. first the little song birds then a raven & a vulture. we were all garbage that night, leaving our fingernails on each other's windowsills. i caught a fairy under a water glass & told no one. left it there until it turned into a smudge. who will we trust with our puppy-dog stories. i sold my teeth for a few dimes. my pocket had a trap door & i scattered all my gun powders away. the sand is aching with skeleton-thoughts. oh that moon shadowed us like cutouts. i caught your birds & kept them in the closet where they writhed & asked for a key to the basement. i thought... what could a bird want with all that dirt? you eluded your own mouth so we talked writing to each other on a chalk board. light bulbs turned tulip. all that pink. what could i name knuckle for. we ate shaved ice from the floor. i told you it's not that clean but you waved me off. after everything. after everything. fuck dishes. fill the sink with syrup. wash out feet from the lip of the tub. your ripe talons. my fresh paws. the fairy isn't dead don't worry. i saw her awake on the other side of the window. she was smashing gnats. what a good creature. the basement instrument rattles. i can see you. all of you. your turning inside out. a bone. a plastic slide. a soup ladle & a sweater. all glimmering with pink sputter. remnants of the birds. our fingers whittled down to the bud.