My tongue catches fireflies,
My cheeks bleed light,
Settled on the tall blades of grass,
They feast with sharp cutlery- numbing.
Butterflies in my spine,
Gliding up my cavity, to my jaw,
I feel wings graze my palate- sweet,
My lingo turning fluttery.
Clung on my bones are black and red,
Pitter-patter, laying a cluster of pearls on my bed,
Grazing my lungs; snatching green air,
A ladybug’s home lies in summer warmth.
A star swallower, I’m nova tonight,
Spinning on a hundred wings,
I fly away from nocturnal- not a bat cave,
Light strings life; now we are soaring.