do your job,
hair pin fingers.
hold my ends away
from the nape
of my neck.

and golden strand,
i picked you
to stay together
and strong,
rest along
my collarbones
and shine just so.
i will attach an expensive
expectation to your front
and a clasp in the back,
hold you there
until you don’t fit
any longer.

do your job,
wristlet clock.
remind me again
of my most valuable
times,
how we are
both running out.

and there again,
my dear,
sweet sole.
cradle my feet
and don’t dare interrupt
my morning walk
with blister or flatness.
stay awake and clean
no matter the mud
i dunk you in.

no matter the blood
i sunk you in.