there were cracked turtles, shells shattered just a little bit, licking their wounds but completely high because of it, like they got off on the pain and he caressed one with a tendril, cooing it bird songs designed to appeal and the other tendril wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. he whispered, “the sky is purple with my desire.”

to which she responded, “the clouds have made the lake dizzy.”

and there were leopards neon green and small, like midgets on the lam that climbed around her shoulders and buried themselves in her hair. they peeked out occasionally, eyes glittering with contempt and loneliness, like severed lips without a face. she said, “come here, i have a lump in my throat”

slowly he dug deep until she choked out nothing but butterflies like tinfoil and spit. she was wretched with embarrassment. “surely” he said, looping both tendrils around her, thighs to hips to belly and breast, “you must be joking.”

and even as the leopards yawned lazily, pawing at his nose, he leaned closer and added, “all bruises heal ceaselessly, like magic, like air the lightening leaves after thunder.”