crazy little wild thing
many- and long-limbed, high silver laughter,
spinning in rings and singing--singing--
going to kill me
(don't freak.) it's a crisis of imagination, or self-control.
later, tomorrow, yesterday, last time; ground me in the present and don't let me move. tie down every drop of blood and shifting breath on a charted floor; when everything freezes - there'll be just one - one that moves, a flicker of shadow-