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We are two grasshoppers playing at night,
grinding the big sand between our big maws,
earth that makes glass that stares with smooth ignorant eyes--

we were men before we lost our souls,
they dripped from our veins to the old music
I am now the thing that once chittered and danced in my hair,
I have no legs but I am happy.

Love is cut apart by your hands on the table, sweet and still slightly green, a
noise that picks at your teeth, sticks to the hardest part of you
before it is spat back into the waves.

Into the big drink, a tangle of dreams and darkness,
dead and living protein flashing in silver knots that scream and fall apart
like a thousand dishes breaking--
that is me laughing.