Serpent

i.  Frost hung a web on my breath        
tonight        
meeting the crumpled imp-        
                                         lication of our skin          
                                                      undressed          
With screeching birds          
manically cracking skulls, necks          
wings        
against their bone-barred cage        
         
         
         
         
I know you heard them  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ii.  the problems lie in those hairline fractures  
atrocities feathering off pure intentions  
that sit sore and squint under skin  
until we rub them down and bind them  
 
as much as it bleeds everything in between  
fulfillment comes  
when pressure has done its work  
and they fuse together stronger  
coming back to form  
 
and in healing  
amnesty can be laid as offering  
before the broken birds -  
they might learn to sing again