How do I know your
drive to run these teeth
over the inviting dead
what torc to chose
when indicating

and yet I rub the
chiromantic map with
unromantic oils and
smooth each surface
without life

dress the contrasting
donors with shavings
toiled and blindly
undressed in lonely
un-hugged trances

why do I hold this
whistle in your
clasped hand
Spear’s index
at the ready

with the open snuff box
in distracted thought
see to your nails
massage your waiting
mound of Venus

un-gloved you gave
to give me life
beyond our clasped
audience of DNA
I applaud you.