Who believed the toads that fell,
from his lips?
Provincial parasites in
he whispers—they writhe;
he simpers—they sigh.
diamonds when she speaks,
pearls when she weeps,
petals when she smiles, and all the while
malachite whorls through a skull forged
Smooth here, stone there—
fingers probe most secret framework,
scaffolding drafted by destiny.
Bump, lump . . . jump to the whys—
Why me? Why he? Why we?
Let it be.
We shrink: tiny teeth, deflating eyes, contracting tongues,
on shoulders far too wide.