dance angel bird, dance

you can only dance so far on the head of a pin, right angel?
fall closer to the left of the edge –
the cusp of dawn's twilight won't be cradling you tonight –
too many tongues are licking flames in this glow
you only remember the long shadows of a tequila shot bleed
your eyes pleading pale pink hibiscus tea tears
stagging for staggering as your mouth stuttered itself into guppy "ohs"
then shrieking, birding itself into a tinny siren wail "noooooo!"

now you find yourself twining to a mother-of-pearl translucence
it has reversed itself like a wet t-shirt
a second skin you can't peel away
standing in thisonthis outpost
feathering a tongue thick in your mouth
in this scraped scrapped landscape –
you don't know where you are for the vertigo
high below, above down
a shattered pocket mirror on the right edge
silently screaming echoes to the forgotten dead
preaching to the no one of yourself

there are too many nails here
but first skin bleeds into a second coming
scented with moss roses
you'll dance with the only now you've got
dive-inely clutching the promise of any . how
time cracking itself open like a freshly laid egg
coming to rest on a pin's head
this sizzle cusp crust, before you fly away