My eyes


I’d like to rest in there, but I get so
ink across the surface
of a skylight I’ve never seen
that gold light
flirting with my knees
I could laugh in the dark

detached from context
a woman got off the bus
reached into her knotted cream
money and scattered
pink blossoms

she put a blue square
in my hand the opacity
of a jolly rancher
it was a language

a bright yellow throat
and severed head
sold separately