Wash your face
to the mirror in an open robe
while I watch you from the bed
we made a pool of sweat again
this afternoon a bedroom
two months into a day

it's a shame when the parts fit
it's a shame when the parts fit

but the machine won't work
all dressed up in the dream
but without the wings heating up to fusion
instead of a union
even love can't make two one
it's breaking me all
I could have done all
I did not do my exoskeleton heart
you reach to through my ribs
with your chipping fingers
and revealing fingernails
breathe into me breathe into me
your the pale-skin gift
that no god ever promised me
thank you for my life.