The Beartrap

With a beartrap around my ankle
I search the pathways
of your childhood soul
as sunlight sneaks above the barbershop

ripping a tree out of the ground
with my cheekbones
your breasts covered
in angel feathers
I rise with a whisper in my coat
and make love to you

my ankle burnt by the smallest coin
spins on the floor
and jimmies the awful sound