diagram of the bones in my feet

the bird hit the window like
the slap you once placed
across my jaw. i always feel like
i'm exaggerating the kinds of pain
i have felt. zoo of pickled bats.
a pine forest rises & falls in my breath.
i see a city where no one has eyes
& a chapel of cows. i go to the doctor god.
he has a good book inside a good book.
jesus did not bible himself. instead,
he lit fires. screamed into any portal
he could find. i do not believe
in christians. at least, not anymore.
where a frog prays. where my biology
units with the amphibial. don't try
& tell me you don't see wings.
angel & otherwise. the butcher
in my looking for the right place
to start the knife. haven't you 
eaten in a wind tunnel before?
held tight to a sweet potato frie?
there's enough cheese to say i'm in love.
x-rays reveal the smallest flute. a door frame.
a tiny locket with a picture of a boyfriend.
he always looked like that before
he made contact. cold creek water 
over bone. a bleeding minnow.
little clouds like field mice. i name them
just to crush them between my fingers.
dust & dust & dust. wriggle my toes.
walk on water but only when no one 
is looking. this is how i got away.