Before the rains,
I live in your skeleton,
pressed beneath the crust
of your face.
I breathe the dust
of powdered heartbeats
beneath your chipped breasts,
dry as bone.
The spit from your lips
searing, mineral
burns my throat raw.
I enter you
as a serpent burrows
into desert sand,
tongue splitting heat,
a parched orgasm
rattling through your
box of sticks,
nothing catching,
nothing taking flame.
