an asteroid
the remaining imprint the Chicxulub crater
in the breastbone of the Yucatan,
shocked quartz and rock
freckle,
sparkle white gas,
clusters and sinkholes and gaps
you are in my bed, reading Sylvia Plath, and discovering
love
for poetry in response to my new obsession
with bed death
yesterday my pubic hair caught in your fingernail
and you
tugged till it split off,
broke, like a piece of twine,
a brittle twig
how does the wind feel against a scaly thigh?
what about feathers?
wind between the afterfeathers
once you laughed something maniacal
and the dinosaurs in my heart
came back to life
in a tremulous roar
the airfoil shape of wings, the beating
they thrust up
from the earth
and the Yucatan in my lungs
gasped
afterward
I asked if my teeth looked sharper
and when you tested their edges you
gasped too