Have You Tried Falseness?

Who do I want to boo? Crude little oilmaker!

Burps are the unspoken words.

Elemendon per chance fallovance grasstopass lesting lesting halament, in reverse

means nothing.

Waterfalls fill with spit bit by bit hold truth in time like

Julia. Time is displeased. Fluids and Time. And Julia.

Fluidity of clocks round and round.

Time only needs a clockhop (bellhop) when it is broken.

I need liminal spaces, a face I’ve never seen before, two slaps in the face and the blood of a goat.

(thank you for the sacrifice!)

I play my ribs like the xylophone but they all make the same noise.

I would like to climb them as a ladder

or wear them as a gauntlet

or use them as teeth so when I smile on a windy day I whistle effortlessly

traumatize the neighborhood children.

I may wittle them to a finer point and direct them outward so when I lie

on top of you, I make a blanket of your blood.

Fit neatly between your ribcage like a clasped hand.

Our hearts may beat out of rhythm but look at the way our bones align.

Use my ribs as drumsticks and beat the tune out of me.