Greener

Two a.m. crawls out from beneath

the bed, passes over dry eyes,

shattered.

I want to climb through the screen

and claw my way down

your throat, in search of the source

of the words that make my teeth

ache.

I want to insinuate myself into

your spine, spreading my nerves

tense along yours, to feel the electricity

that crackles beneath your skin. I want to break

brittle bones and reset them

with your marrow to become the easel

such beauty is crafted upon. I imagine

the brush of your eyelashes

in the static buzz of the monitor

against my finger tips, soft and

wanting.