Nest
You nursed the spike from
my punctured heart, and
soaked up the blood with
blankets and bandages.
You gazed at me
with your charcoaled
eyes and pillow-fort
chest, and told me
about the seasons
as I soaked your
pillows with fire.
And you, with auburn-
gold locks and snowstorm
skin, managed to
freeze the fires running
down my face as I
choked on muffled wails.
They escaped through
porcelain bars and
fissured through lips
licked shut,
but you caught them
in arms embracing
And let me sob.
You squeezed my
eggshell shut
until I was
ready to emerge
once more.