i want to be undone one tooth at a time.
there were pterodactyls in the yard
so we yelled & made ourselves as large as we could
to scare them off. sitting face to face
on the train ride home from the city
i nest my feet between yours. out the window
the world is jurassic & then modern & then
a valley of ashes. as a boy-girl i would bike
to the fabric store between corn fields.
select patterns from huge reams. marvel at 
pricey velvety blue & greens then find
the wall of zippers. a museum of sideways grins.
bought several & considered administering them
to my body. how easy it would be to open my arm.
thigh. chest. coming apart like skeletons 
departing from a train. the station scattering
in all directions. car headlights. holding my hand
& then me letting go. i keep getting older
but it still feels strange to see your knuckles
inside mine. a bear trap set for cretaceous.
there are really not enough animals to go around.
i find my DNA in the microscope. see the zipper
that asked god to print me. slowly, i undo it.
feel my self unfettering. single hairs floating away.
skin flourishing like silk curtains. i didn't know
what i needed until it was an implement. mouth open.
grasped inbetween my thumb & forefinger.
pulling open. exhale. history in evergreen shade.
a handful of tongues. fossilized footprint.
you walk away & take all your animal cells with you.
my bottom jaw, now a butterfly wind. beats & beats 
until the memory is gone. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.