you’re a god in cirrus skins. Disappeared between rock formations in an infant’s skull, night composes. Return, to set the table in porcelain figures. Try this one on for languish, this one for ripe. Hollows shout the mountain down to its first cries. Try me. Try me. No one fails to breathe under dank blankets. No one rips like buttons down the side. Tongue the fabric where no one is missing. No likeness spoons the eyes with great precision. No likeness takes a terrible care to leaves wet from our sockets. No likeness betrays me, giggling behind my many likenesses. No likeness wants a new scooter, to throw water balloons at the neighbors all night. No likeness cracks the concrete in bare feet. No likeness fears the water closing in. No, likeness cased in water without drowning. No, likeness needs no one but me to hold her. Down.