Riot Kiss

Carry a migraine on your city hips.
That we may catch wind of the silver
thread over the desert. My grace is
pretty and needless, more or less
just what it is. Like I can build
a charm machine but I never will
because I trust you to do what
it says in the manual which is to
only build stuff you can hold.
Open your arms to the sun while I salute
your steady gait and silken frame.
I bring you things from places
you've never been.
Here's a warm breath
for the spot I love to kiss
when you are still.