1272

I got photos of me in black sheep
skin and neon whiskers with
a bird perched on my nose
cradling my glasses

that all made me desirable
you said
as you pulled a tooth
from behind my skull
one out and one in

in another photo
I have a cloud as a bathrobe
and I can’t breathe
but you couldn’t see
just see me

that all made me manic
you said
as you withdrew
from your basket
of loaves and scented oils

in that grainy and scratched
polaroid I’ve got a tree
sprouting from my chest