She provided me her bent nape with a synapse intact

A system of lucidity sprawled forth like an anthill

She entrusted me with a mechanism of tendrils that slithered among a ladder of vertebrae

Scarring bone with a sloshing acidity that infects each nook

Left dangling in twine with end and the truth of ash or soil

A ladder of eyes roped to the droop of her esteem

She blinked thirty three times at once until I ate each stem

She was never meant to see the aeons that bent and made her sing