No Frank the Bunny Mask

Halloween party coming up; wanted to be either one of the Residents, with a giant eyeball head and tux, or Frank the Bunny from Donnie Darko. I have a tux, but I couldn't find a big hollow sphere or globe to turn into an eyeball. Frank the Bunny masks are expensive and I'm not talented enough to make one. Who cares, right?
Here's another hunk of verse I quite liked. If you read this, give it a scan.

Toward a Pointillism

of Intimacy

first thoughts thrive

within

blown glass

lines only on the face

walk if you want

to curious affinity

hands cold red at the edges

rubbed on desolate fireplaces

she’s just there

hair static fresh

crackling butterfly frame

crossing borders

presence actual

arranged on the carpet

why weren’t they

we’re not our skin

solitude early

contained

have I been visited

Cosmopolitan Greetings

the truth about

thin fabric on knees

shoes in the hall

a river stone

reciprocal arrangement

a bra on my bed

get our bearings

already too late

no rhetorical you

philosophy perhaps

she took Polaroids of

interruption

I used to be

cut them into pieces

a pile of her

scissors scheme

the engine that killed her

writing with my hands

lifted right out of her

difference sands the back

her surrogate nerves

just her fresh

crackling scent

shall not have rocks and water

and skin

you on my entire

breathe normally now

stretched fabric

arched a million times

little hooks of the river

comfort in leaving

the once-white bed

lean in

cut like metal

onto my stomach

over the sodden transferring

it’s her smooth

glistening loss

a cold linger

lines too far back

hands on my face

just a mirror

water

steps toward truth

I will never be them

lived it by degrees

at the corner is skin

on the river

wet can scatter this