Treaties in the Hourglass

Cotton candy tells her where to melt. Distribution of gods. Kind and malevolent. In the resolve of mediocre chemicals. The man wearing gods' gloves. Fingers drawing samples of her. Pieces of pussy. Prozac if you're old. Heroin if you're young.

I could sleep if I wanted to. If you would let me. Close my eyes without still seeing. The fingers of life pointing. As if it matters what I say.

The octopus with so many arms still cannot hold. Or ever hope to touch. All the raindrops her body decides must fall. Sorry is the wolf who cried pig too often. Now no one believes him. When there is something to kill. While the boy is praised.

The hunger is easy. Absolute. One dimension to the person. Taste. The sour of not saying anything. The rubber between her teeth filling up with poetry.

Puzzle pieces. To assemble. Looking like people.

It's only natural that the fish should swallow the hook.