step on my face
i beg of you
your lips were
the closest call
then you hung up
the cord curled
over the interstate
through drowning fields
and here i stand
begging for your claws
but you shake your fur
and pass on by
high standards
for prey or mate
i curl up with
stoned birds
and yellow plastic
praying the eyelids swell
until the leakage ends
and you won't redial
fingers too messy
wineprints on the phonebook
but she looks closers
you'll take her to bed.
and i sleep in the sky
empty ribs