1.
      
I'm gone.  I've gone from trajectory to wax. 

I'm surrogate. 

If I were an eaten thing, I'd taste like seeds. 

I'd be a syllable.

 

2.

I'm twilight on a scaffold.

I need a table for my health. 

I'll walk through forty-five pounds of sleep. 

One wild vacancy. 

 

3.

I'm naked but still rattle.

Paper from rust, transfusions.

Negative parachutes,

and serenaded wreckage.

 

4.

I eat yogurt.

I traffic and trespass, supported by wishbones. 

I'm stained wrenches. 

I'm tundra.

 

5.

I'm neglected omens.

Revival is a kind of monster. 

I'm vulnerable as any tourist.

I'm self-stigma.