i didn’t realize that you were my sixth vertebrae
until i broke my
( i stepped through the cracks in the tunnel when you held my hand )
you skated out of the hospital like the ribbons
living in the edges of my eyelids -
i knew you were a dancer on the left stage of my Broadway
right around the streetlights in my ribcage.
i switched my veins for electricity and my eyes for strobe lights
letting the vibrations shatter my sweet bones.
( we drove that car down i-75 at breakneck )
you shivered into my skin like hyperactive meteors
& i thought i was your polish girl [stretched into your cosmos]
displaced echoes crackled in my eardrums and under my pinky toe
as Edison pulled the wires tight
and my veins ignited under your glow-in-the-dark smile.
( you were every photo on my camera)