you live in a sandcastle
built of mud and sticks and the words
no one ever said.
a delicate starlet found dead in the tub-;
standing barefoot in your Sunday best, a heroin
halo and an arm full of sunshine.
every morning you hurl yourself into the ocean and
sleep with dead mean at the bottom of the sea
you’re a virus, you’re a prayer, you’re a fox
running from the Hounds.