honeydunce

bird shit on a siren

i used to believe
that one day the lions and callused hands of mermaids
would come and get me
sign me off duty
lop off the feet
sew kites to wrists
and i would have ten thousand wrists
like doorless hinges
like the broken backs of my books

& the sirens bring skipping stones
& the lions want meat

darling, may it be said here
that i chose to be on the roof
teetering between
gutter and something
that no force brought me to my ledge,
there being anchored by the myth of what is left

i stand here all
movement captured on camera–
a blur,
an eye dislocated,
a profiled cheek stretched
into a bawdy blue light
a freckled hamstring at the bottom of the ocean
shipwrecked shell

i hear my name being called
but keep walking
bends all breaking open, open
(as if the earth fell apart
and the waters dried out
and the ground didn’t care
and all the hammers were as soft as organs
and my mind was made up
to be convinced,
awake
slightly foolish