and I drew graffiti on the windscreen with blood / etched out catacombs on the rear mirror/ stuffed pieces of broken glass into my mouth / because the tongue is a lubricant for spare parts / and spare could mean ‘broken’ or ‘barely survived’ / and the throat is an alcove for bruised lungs, torn limbs / and any other organ that wants to stay hidden / I watched my shadow puncture its flesh with shards / until it bled colors / say, I’m a testament of broken rainbows / a unique shade of grief / the day before yesterday / I slipped into black / and tattooed my dead parents on my skin /say, I planted their bones in a pen / and harvested them on my arm with ink / yesterday, I slipped into ash / wore a robe of embers / and did a grave dance in the bedroom / I swirled slowly / the way / a head swirls on a slit neck / but today / I slip into gold / I reach out to hope / grab its slippery fingers / draw it in a hug / until we choke on each other’s scent / until I slip into white / the unstained color of happiness.