Sestina of Milk, Nails, and Copper

drink your 5 year old milk, boy! I know where you live, stop painting your nails like a girl, boy! Aging copper tones cut corners in my ink- stained eyes from the lies you told, melted from the heat surrounding this empty day. From the dust the day arises, filling in the gap between the other dust which is now floating in your milk. Oh horrid image of powder-milk—in the heat, No less! An image I would have nailed To the back of the ink- Tarnished vapors in your head, loner. It all goes copper Under the sun’s furious copper— Melting rays. Ashes to dust To my pen, once full of ink, Now wasted. No use cryin, spilled milk Is the least of your trials. Nail It to your face and watch it ferment in sun’s heat. Heat that will kill you. Heat That will burn you up and melting copper That I didn’t want anway—like copper nails— Only in existence to Bind me Rusty or turn me to green dust, Worthless anyway. Then I wouldn’t have to drink your damn milk I’d get my own nutrients instead—I’d drink the ink From my pen. My soul comes out inky, Spills dark revelations on a page that burns in the heat Of my gaze, always staring. Then dowsed in milk To cover the burning sensation of my copper Nose. Amethyst, the shiny purple—also to dust It turns. We build jeweled crutches out of nails, Crutches we use to walk on, or trip over the deadly spikes of bedded nails Jutting forth its powerful poisonous ink Staining all that was once good, makes it dusty And kills me, burns at the stake, the heat, Too much to bear. Dangling my copper Jewelry singes my white milky Skin. Using my nails I scratch me for never drinking enough milk. Melted ink pours over rich copper Which turns to dust…I’m done with this last sip of milk.