Photo courtesy of Fir0002/Flagstaffotos
Their song of love
echoes electric –
they make instruments
of their own bodies.
The brooch of their
abandoned carapace,
a horrific delight.
I wore them,
proud pins,
on my childish clothing
and in sun tangled hair,
beguiled by their terrible claws
and bulging eyes–
a bejeweled decoration of hot Summer
given to me by
my Grandpa.