steven somersbee

I remember seeing how your
magdalene eyes choked
a listless voice mute,
burned in silence and
reasoning judgments
past off as molecules
within a viral bacteria,
inhaled in the subway
after chewing on
everybody’s leftover
fingerprints, worming
intersectways in and out
like some looming
spools of worn yarn shorn
from a baby sheep good
enough to bottle feed and
better than enough to eat,
I consumed you daisy, twice,
and in daily rituals I mythed
you like a myrrh rhinestone
headdress made from the finest
human hairs collectible,
toys adorn my bookshelves
and move at twilight,
dancing for myselves and
our reflections, twirling infinites.