Hamstrings tucked into calves,
Rolls of lunch meat, sliced into halves,
Like a child bride, soon-to-be wed,
Each day, we sleep upon my collection of heads.
Chunky fat, lubricating the Steinway piano.
My dear, if only you could hear the crickets' unearthly soprano!
Played by thumbs of non-believers, wailing like newborns,
Sinners and heathens, fish that gripe and groan.
With the song of a humpback, they mumble and moan.

If I had asked, would you have stayed?
If I had gone, would you have prayed?

I am a frog, huddling in the corner.
Stillborn baby, laid before its mourner.
Through cupped palms, water leaks.
Through the cracks, it crumbles and creaks.
Squeaking.
Shivering.
Shriveled.
Shrinking.

The product of factory-farmed hens,
Soon to be consumed by factory farmed men.
They are a sea of textured sausages and starfish and anemones 
In our bleached reef.

Push with me, darling.
Don't be afraid.
Use the limbs that God had you make!
We're only trees.
You're the moon,
I the star.

Blink up at me darling, now.
Don't be afraid.
It's not that far.
In between your neighborhood and ours.

There's only a polluted highway and a couple of cars.

Please don't resent me, beloved.
Leftovers are all I can give.
The lamb is still too young for good blood,
The piglet, not yet tender and far too stiff.

But if ever you seek me, darling,
You need not look hard.
Put a gentle hand to the mirror,
And behold: your patron, your rearer.

I'll always lie beside you,
Never doubt me, darling true!
Trace my neck with your elbows,
Kiss my breasts with fingers blue!
See the imprint they leave, and how it fades
like purple Elmer's glue.

I'll guard them with tenacity,
From black cats and werewolves and Little Miss Cindy Lou Who.

Walk beside me now, darling.
Close your eyes; give me a smile.
We'll follow the path of the Roman starling,
Please be patient; it may take a while.