ribbed

i name the staircase in your throat.
hurry down inside where the shadows
are already starting. 
we put our fists in the handshake machine
& come out dilapidated men with nothing
easy to say. in the bedroom you are always
hard to threshold. who is going
to be the monkey & who is going
to be the thimble. i drink rain 
for breakfast & hollow out my stomach
to use as a future drum. farewell to 
the ridges of the obelisks & 
greet each doorless closet like 
an uncle. our families know nothing
of how we use our knees & where
we place the edge. i tell you
to twist the horizon line
until there's no telling what
is a hemline & what is an ocean.
spit a tooth in your palm 
for me to swallow later. i need a 
a location to drip. crave a huge lipped bowl.
on the staircase i can't seem
to get higher. take the banister 
& hoist myself onto the white tongue. 
we should have been moths 
or jupiter beetles & carcasses 
in the deep end of a blue public pool.
instead we were half boy half chronicle.
for this we can promise nothing
but friction. skin can become dragon
in the dark of another half boy's wanting.
we cut the clock into seven pieces.
one for each god. tell me again
how you earned your distance inward.
take back what you said last year
about my heart being covered 
in barbs. i have done the pruning
& here you are in my keepsake 
with a pinewheel if feet. i can barely
fit you in my snake's skin purse.