The bread no the bread no the

The heel ascends and descends fictively
the heel snags in lace pouring from the femme fountain
the heel grinds glass and fills the flutes
the heel hikes a red hot bath a velvet mile
the heel holds the bread together the bread the bread no the
the heel heated high in the hills above the motherless bread no the bread no the
the heel dipping into the grass and deeper into the grass
the heel dragging a long row of children strangling their stockings
the heel tearing through the thin paper that covers the bread no the bread no the
the heel hitting the chandelier on its way down
the heel tangling in its crystal beads like an inverted prayer
the heel hanging there delaying