we wish we were rusting. the bright light of early evening is kissing our bodies golden and all that we're doing is sitting in worn lawn chairs, dusty with dry summer, pushing substance through our pours to quiet our running mouths. i can see in your face past the warm halo of 7'oclock that behind your eyes you're watching buildings fall and every second taking to wing, ducking past, unrolls to a minute quite louder than the last. the beginning of the middle exploding outward from your ears in the miasma of white shot silver. a glimpse of polished carbuncle. shells shine raw with polishing down to grooved disks and coral pink. z x c computer keys under oath to precede v b n black prisms caught. a s d superceded by q w e more paramount. rushing in rivelets opaque down carved channels locked into crosshairs on the map of your freckles, cutting constellations skewed. emanating from goldendropped skin with polyester elasticity, robotic. tendons strain and you turn your head and the aureate beacon burns irises black and blue, marring skin before mild neutral now seamed deep.