night sands two

weaves my hand into 
        your hair
slicked back
        wet thing
        immolator,
        cure on the tear-wall
breaking 
        horror show,
i am sunk between the teeth,
five thousand.phones
              sky    loping down
syrup         lens
curling in upon a dreaming  time,
  in upon itself
     picked the bits that fit-never
            ever touch the core,
    upon itself
scrap-lover, reminiscer