Guillotine’d by her worn curio:

one periapt aptly shaped
green brachiosaurus.
My eyes explore the ground
following her trail of thought
as we trek hardened mud,
differing exigence soon becomes vicarious—
we share our own versions
of separate persons
until I lose my focus
noticing that shape resting on your skin
and find myself laughing
at the light of her charm
and the deathblow that is her tender warmth.