axe throwing

my god was a fire puppet.
they said we were lucky to get out alive.
gripping your laughs by the handle.
ending are never as precise 
as i want them. i collect buttons
in a sweater pocket in case 
i need to close a hole in the atmosphere.
we paint the target on your back.
ring after ring. you become celestial 
in our shared dream of exaction.
here is where i stop loving you
& we become ex-comets. you post
on facebook a meme that jokes
about dying. we are the family
of nero's violins. in the air an axe 
whirls. propellor & orbit-maker.
the blade that comes around again
& a again. sharpness of planets.
each thins to the body of
a pairing knife. cleaves the space-dark
like a black nectarine. i am so hungry 
for a bullseye. perfection. you turn
on your heel & become an orchard.
i collapse as a heap of firewood.
send smoke in the shape of stringrays.
ocean buttons her waves. 
a field of targets. you want me
to call you to say goodnight.
i can't. the phone is a dragon tongue bean
or else the handle of an axe.