books were a destiny then

1) the tangle of rainbows in the sprinkler/
the breath of crumbling caulk on the front porch just before it rains/
newborn kittens squirming from their sticky birthsac/
(the crooked wings of the ride-on horse could not fly)
Nicey's stonewashed jeans, legs that went on and up/

2)from Larimer street, the first western sunset: the yolky sunset scrambling all its colors onto mountains:
will you cradle me? smooth blues and apricot (the tang of loss) into the mountains' crooks and peaks

3)this is me: standing up on tabletops, spitting into microphones
this is me: tortoise glasses slip in sweat
(when she bit my pussy, the curl of a helicopter in the sky.
: if press on my eyes long enough, webs of gold comb over retina and rey/
scraping gold leaf from the church's walls.