mouth-bees

rediscover imitation

as a form of communication

hands sealed

as identification continued

undisturbed for the last time

can I see

behind your mouth-poverty

I sense bees

squandering

your entire soul

I want to be a part of your imagery

tied with wire knots

to your uterus

and be young again.

Never wanted

to be inside your fingertips

so bad

trusting strangers

having sex with silenced infants

the agony of your puzzle

wrecks my

breath

what's going on

with your life calculator