the fifth against the wall

consider
the
terradactyl sex
so extinct
in me
so morbidly
obese
that rock
dwells
eons under feet
and moves to
soft sand,
a gentle
wind
kiss
so long
on the
island's shore like
more elaborate
games and
bobbled breezes
squeezed to
hemorrhaging,
the finger nail
burnished red
to gray the
russet
colored one
tastes first
of love-
the rein
before the hand,
the heart should
lead and let the
that fruit plant
deep its seed
and flower there
again.