by spines: by spires

	-for jen tynes


painted in the broken glamour
			grated silence where the heel drags
slip-shod & shrieked moonlit alleys

ghosted in the backlit shallows          so I shadow, so I swamp rot
like a bugaboo—I come dressing up         came river, mossed up—where I scratch face
my cheek fall off

think you walk away from the bayou more than when you walk in- thin skinned  sucked up lapping lips at the dog’s bowl

O                       I adore that note

fingering its way past midnight, come hither in a dark mote

think you fiddle with a musical instrument: you caterwaul 
like any humping kitty’s first heat 
			felt up first like drop-dripped 
under covers                a bit of devil’s tongue runs swallowing out 
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