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This is a moodboard of photomanipulation and poetry, trying to sell you all on mirror balls and chains.
For more poems, visit my poetry account on Twitter, Wet Hay Mixtape @WetHayMixtape.

fractal sheddings mark a filth cycle, and soil
aches with toil, the uplifted steal of carbon.
all is passage; skin breathes and water sustains,
fibonacci petals mark spring, and still the soil
aches with toil, the uplifted steal of carbon.
all is passage; dirt breathes and humans bleed,
spill their guts to each other and out and down,
and earth alive aches with the thrill of carbon.

Mannequin limbs, puppet-folded on strings, flake-paint smile and paper-thin skin.
Time overspent on the care-carved hip, still-standing and bare and bronzed at the lip –
Signs of touch-wear, travel bruise-knocked, kiss-coloured knuckles on hands interlocked,
Too firm and too delicate an idle soft-brush, breathing for two in too telling a rush.

I'm waiting by the window while starlight falls like soft rot.
I shoulder the walls smooth and watch you press against them.
I've carved all the graves I can give, and I've buried teeth out back.
Piece by piece I offer a new home in the hollow.
I lay back and listen to your whisper-knocking hands.
At night I hear your heartbeat overhead, and I stare.

If the light would reach past the plaster,
If you would eat your way through,
If you would reach my body,
We'd be hand in hand in house.