i ramshackle myself the idea with pine cones that fit into my mouth whole and unmolested. i hold you close and yearn the fear even further away than seagulls diving through tufts of my hair for a promise. spigots and pipes make up rhymes that burrow and weave through veins bitter and leave me stiffened. nails polished cracked and weary find the seam of my smile folded and doubled but absolutely lacking. i walk through city streets and landscapes of grass and knolls and shores that stretch endlessly with bones washed clean. into the darkness of hills without stars or a moon to guide us by i tapped a twisted stick before me as my cousin and i cackled our hysteria listening for an echo that never returned. i stifle it all into the ply of cardboard pieces wet with vomit and you laughed, is that all there is?