We are Houses; We Sink and Leave Doors Open Past Dusk

This mothering instinct is a rust colored
variety of gathered clouds and chain-link
fences in piles by the side of our
white house.

Even the leaves rust away & brown
and orange spots on the railing.
I am not sure I know how to stop it
because I leave nests in the windows.

‘Oxidizes’ was vocabulary a pigeon
would vocalize, whose feathers
are more dust than lightning bugs.

With the hornet sting, I ask for endurance
and try to hold the red bump until
the same rust colored clouds
take your skin away/

peel at our eyelids (from the underside)
(and mostly the same color
when not sleeping
on the ride
home.)

I did not try to care for you
and gave nothing for the sting.
Your sad and slightly curious blue
eyes corrode my skin, or

what I thought was soon
to brown to dust.

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