when the giants came

i was wearing a steel hat
& silk gloves. "prepared for anything,"
i said. tuesday wouldn't come
& thus neither could the end.
so, here i am,
kissing another boy 
on a match head. that is what
it feels like to live right now.
sometimes the news arrives
simply as a maroon trumpet.
geese migrate from living room
to living room. i feed them 
handfuls of pearls.
nothing is beautiful anymore 
because i say so. that is except
for you my love who has been sleeping
so long you're stone. i refuse
to move or else i will never see
your eye lids again.
my body is a tapestry of hideaways.
i carved a hole in an apple
& watched the earth shake.
giants, more every single day.
their faces like fists.
books leap from shelves.
slumbering in the middle 
of the streets. in a body that big
there's no where around here
to settle. i want to invite them in
& destroy all the smallness
i've built. we baracade the door
even though the giants could just
snap it open. ritual is often
what we do to immitate safety.
lighting candles as if 
a fire could not rise
to inhale us all. i name the giants 
after past mountains long converted
to women. i have a tendancy towards
loving that which can kill me.
carving my ribs into paring knives
& my teeth into pills. 
i can't help it. this is 
my catastrophic alchemy.
the giants came eager & ready. 
this is more than i can say for us.
maybe they know 
what to do with my bones.

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