After I have only just rebuilt this lungbox shelter, Don't you dare think I'd even let you start to slip Through secret cracks another of your crumpled prayers; Not after you, barefisted, cracked the plywood slats, split Cartilage connections, all to retrieve in desperate Haste a jumbled pile of red-inked scripts you slid narrow Into my rib cage like 6th-grade locker love notes, kissed And kept. Not after you strewed splintered marrow, Left me sacked and fractured to mend with distressed Nails. I have laid electric wire warning of my entire Thorax to dissuade trespass but you stumble in with repossessed Words folded into origami hearts and offer me desire. Before you speak off-hand endearments, be forewarned: These fingers sting with callouses your carnage formed.