Why Are You Constantly

it's hard to see the screen with all these ghosts\the sea anemones
make a kissing sound when they let go of your fingers

Pigeon. Seagull. Pigeon. Robin.

arms the color of pickled pigs in a jar
threatening to jump off a window ledge into a tidal pool
your smile constantly erases itself

hair wafts into my eyes, sticks to my lipstick
the wind as your green curtains skim the ceiling

is that a paw or hoof on my face/is that a burlap
sack or boat on my windowsill

so hot you sit on the floor and pant, dog-like
your psychiatrist is afraid and asks me to sit next to him

Seagull. Grackle. Doorknob.

boiling water seeps through an orange pekoe teabag
on the walls, squares of bright yellow where photos of flowers and elephants hung

the hum of flies, shadows or burn marks in your bedroom
the newspaper lining your cage

my thumb smoothing your eyebrows the color of commas
the negative space of your forehead

why are you constantly comparing everything
to animals/ you ask me

----

So I finally followed one of Ilya's suggestions and did a poem. Perhaps I should say "wrote"? Anyway, let me know what you think about the last line -- should I cut out, you asked me?

Also, does the title work?

If you're interested, I'll let you know the technique I used to make this.