nuclear love poem

they test the sirens of my turquoise.
here are the men who guard against 
meltdown & i am putting them inside 
a plastic bag. spider under a drinking glass.
do not look too hard at what is 
fueling you. a dinosaur stands on the hood
of my car & i refuse to apologize.
we have to burn something. a ghost.
a greased gear. the towers grow more
each day with their permed hair clouds 
& loose teeth. all my bugs fall out &
i have nothing left to say to you today 
so we go into reactor & make a city. 
you tell me i glow like cave fish. eyeless,
i feel for the heat of your body. come make
a resevoir of me. a frog with two heads
& all of his prophecies. all the outlets 
in the house have tea lights inside.
candle lit dinner between two shrimp.
i would give you every bone in my body
one by one until i am a curtain.
pulling shut the day. do not tell me
anything else about the risks. i want
to bask in this blood. in the jewel moon.
an earring to share. taking off our shoes
to wade into water. steam in our hair.
switchyard men standing broad shouldered
& ready to make money off our
electricity. light bulbs fat from this touch.
we turn men to flies. we burn the bridge
& walk like striders on water. 
when the night comes it does nothing.
our skin radiates loud enough
so that i can find you through forests
& across chasms. come back &
let us make another star.