Gunmetal Iguana Pipes

What is propped up with
aftermarket sun-
light lingers behind eyes
a long way back as I would
tell myself again
how see-saw battles have
spun-out in drunk-colored neon spray
just as I could say our numbers are
tapped like keystrokes in re-mix samples
of accent & rime
but ethereal enough
to keep your sunglasses on all night
not that I’d lift the tell tale
signage
nor drag the sectioned break that tacks
your ankles to a cross of sand
but hazard to recite litanies resigned
to nickle & dime aloha bells
& count the steps below