well i will have to start sparks in:
lunging from bed by the pointe-toe
crafting each crater out of cool skin
stringing these tight shoulders down.
i can battle with a breath again.
show my body what it’s built for
ask it kindly to stretch out, then,
if it means each moment of the light,
if we know we want to win.
but it’s a might gone mountained
every time we both begin
the cindered work of braving up.
i can nip this at the spine-spin
if i’m cornered by the corpus
but that doesn’t mean it listens
as it tips out at the peak:
when the fierceness lasts a frisson
it’s a wonder i can speak.