I am here now, slowly opening
your chest, searching for a bone
I will grow from (ribs are interesting
only as cages — a stolen bar
will help you breathe easy).
I am less a cat with nine lives, more
a lizard abandoning her tail. You
are precious but disposable
in the face of danger. You
are danger. You see, your laughter
fits too snugly against mine, no room
for in-between breath. You see, I need you
to know imbalance.
Let me try again: look closely
at the algae, the centimeter thick promise
of land. Look where the frog
jumps into the black
underneath. I have always been tempted
by grassy welcomes. I cannot blame you
for taking advantage.