Falling Asleep as we Speak

Willing snow to stick
against my own interest
word of the hour is slipping,
slipping and sticking,
begins to sound disgusting,
unsettling bodily snowflake
we’re fleeing, a family
to the museum again, for free
losing our way on the branches 
of creation, it makes sense
on the wall but not
on the ground my throat
is full of blood my skeleton
wants to sit I feel no
mammalian pride on
the bathroom line can
you see my eyes closing
on this line, droop droop
which sticky characteristics
are my own and which
have branched on through
my body from the other side
of time