Spoon

A xylophone when
          you first
          had me
          in your
          mou(th)ere

is a small coin stolen
          from       your
                cheek.
Like knuckle-
                           walking
                           across
                           shards
          of fluorescence.

A throbbing
of

          sea
     turtles.
Cheeks smooth
          as
          cannon
          cast iron
          dimes and
          quarters.
Feet entwined
          like cyclone
                 fence
He wore a mask
          like cyclone
                 fence
There is a sagging
cyclone
fence
wrapped round our
          two im-
          perfect
          bodies.