your birthday was halo-lit nights and cigarettes in sugar cakes—
melted icing smeared over the tips of flames snuffed out in the dark.
you asked for a songbird, said your lungs were burnt with apocalypse dust
your lips tainted with the taste of escape from a world with cracked
rose glasses
and i gave you a beating heart but you stared birdlike with all your feathers showing
EYES OPEN
EYES OPEN
EYES OPEN
silver plumes peeking from a spinal cord tall and brittle as a lamppost lit with a singular glowing
bulb
and it was me and you and the smoke and the flame in your head
on your birthday—
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