My Amygdala

Naked scales
and serrated wants
fall around me like
inlets of a vertical body of water.
Sound is the lizard in me,
anhydrous its eyes;
slide a finger down its lizard tail
and feel irate grooves—
centuries old—rising away from fear
under its violent epidermis.
Take me to your calm place and
I will sink my lizard fangs in you,
each gash a flight from unquiet thoughts.

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