You're

Frictionless, the smooth brass ticking
In God's stitches;
Morpheus, my benign crow.

Squashed in all directions like a
Firework. Placid, one moot clock point
On which immortality wobbles and sways.
Down-Feathered: Greening at the edges.
O Suture; everything you touch
Begins to Bleed.

Exiled son of Eden,
Branded onto yourself like an embryo.
Unbroken Emigrant seeking no home:

O my love,
O my great
Mercurial idiot, for whom
I have swallowed my own kingdom
like a star.