Day 85 of 100 Poems/100 Days

Sternum

Ball into socket,
we fall into place.

Her sweat is gasoline,
to consume,
like matches under polaroids,
erasing her dress,
that glance,
that spin of her heels on my chest.

God accelerates our bones,
into the furnace,
filling the stacks with ash,
making flesh turn back to smoke.

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