Wash your face 
to the mirror in an open robe 
while I watch you from the bed 
we made a pool of sweat again 
this afternoon a bedroom 
two months into a day 

it's a shame when the parts fit 
it's a shame when the parts fit 

but the machine won't work 
all dressed up in the dream 
but without the wings heating up to fusion 
instead of a union 
even love can't make two one 
it's breaking me all 
I could have done all 
I did not do my exoskeleton heart 
you reach to through my ribs 
with your chipping fingers 
and revealing fingernails 
breathe into me breathe into me 
your the pale-skin gift 
that no god ever promised me 
thank you for my life.