my plump artifact

this poem made me sad when writing it.

my plump artifact is yers for the taking
couldn't help notice the asterisks
sketched in yer high bones. the natives
running down yer metacarpals
onto the billowing page. flash
fictionless fingerholes. barnum built
circuitry. there's a star filled
sky of want. footnotes to the
disappointment of eden rolling a
million supernova blunts til the can't
have of you. my traps should coil.
I'd mummify yer heart until science could
prove yer the breath of me.
but you've come. gone. and all that's
left is a mess of unstrung words in
a gilded arena of pain. the wind whistles
to no one. begging for centuries to pass.
eden still typing but everything's new.