I was seventeen / when I devoured my first / car crash / the warped metal made my eyes / roll
back / and laser headlights shot out of my / hip bones / I never sleep on my / back / because the
cars in my guts / spark against each other / and if I / twist / too much they start some wicked
inferno with / my gasoline blood / a planet of crunched / flaming steel / when I was twenty I
devoured my first / boy / over for dinner / I can always feel the crash / no matter how far / I re-
hinge my jaw / as the planet rumbles / my insides are feeling seventeen again / at midnight I’ll
swing my / father’s sword / against six different mirrors leaving a / seventh / uncracked like a
flinch-resistant / pool of mercury / carefully touching lips with my / reflection / and thinking
about the next / car / the next / boy