Maybe one day our blood will thaw
Seagulls will pluck at feathers, dive underwater
The click-click-click-click will finally stand still
Everything’s maroon now. Is this thing in
My hand alive, bulbous?
Maybe one day our blood will thaw.
When I was eight, I dragged butterfly carcasses
Across the lawn and filled the empty space with sand.
Then, the click-click had been afraid of me: it stood in a corner.
Liking cacti isn’t as deep or intrinsic as I thought it was.
The prick of a finger-- and despite the staleness, I gargle milk.
My blood didn’t thaw, but my eyes were red in the morning.
The dolls were sycophantic when the first vase
Crashed. I don’t quite remember the claw marks on glass, but
The click-click-click-click was louder than ever-- I
covered my ears, plastic eyes lolled back in front of me.
I pet the goat exactly seven hours before I eat it.
This ‘I’ is delirious, with hollowing vision. Quick!--
The poor creature’s blood has thawed;
Can you hear it? The click-click standing still?