You were no one, a few feet of skin.
The scales burned awakening into the years of sheets.
The scaffold of your breast built feathers
Of eyesight beneath the watching precipice.
Broken birds coughed ashes into the knife shrieking dawn.
You stood, shot through the eye,
Turning over old photographs
With a dried-out healing.
God shrieked in the streets of his own transparency.
I have forgotten my name, I have forgotten my name