are bursting from their caves.
one with the spine of a razorMINE;
and one with the spit of a miracleYOURS.
My emails shin guards
are soaked; your emails helmet
and mouth piece are chewed;
my email is trying to kiss your email,
hoping for grass stains.
My email is a stingray
chasing the vanishing climates
that surround your email. My email
is dizzy; it is letting loose
images of glue sticks
into the wilderness, into the wild hides
that hide behind your email.
fabrics of antlers, galloping past networks
of sledgehammers, both emails know
how to connect and roll, like a giant snowball,
all over our faces.
They are naked
They were once
the clovers beneath our feet,
once ancient planets of volcanoes.
Standing at separate balconies,
you and I wait. The emails are drifting
through the dreams
of a limousine
and being slowly eaten
by fried chicken.