vision caused by an impending lover

[Brownlie]

Alright then, here we go.

I hate the title, but until I have something else....


I’ve become too narrow.
Autumn still aches in my rib cage. Nowhere near dying, -- Autumn still aches or spring or another more vibrant season still aches? Cause you know, autumn is not typically fun unless you're Yeats or something.
just the illusion of it as peonies bloom in my palm.
Pink, always pink like the first time you saw me, -- I personally would like to see a repetition of pink like this turn into hyperbole, which might be going on here.
there is no room here for breathing. -- The syntax seems a little off to me.  Why not "There is no room for breathing here"

I’ve dissected you. -- "Dissected" is immediately going to give the body a medical connotation.
A thousand tiny white bones. By morning, I’d renamed them all
and assembled them at the back of my throat
so I wouldn’t forget how you sound,
the glossy humming of bees.

I’ve folded you open.
A museum of intricate disasters. All wound and shame -- I like a museum, but I don't like the general ideas. "Shame" or even "intricate disasters" doesn't seem to communicate much to me.
that you cleansed me of. A christening of hands,
and forgiveness that I can believe,
in this heat I am something holy.

I’ve taken your eyes.
Brilliant satellites. Burning without resistance,
orbiting above me, so I can dream
in a place where the shadows can’t reach,
the darkness no longer hypothesis.

I’ve rendered you down.
Forgotten what I know about love. An articulation
that has become foreign. I open my mouth to speak,
a million drumming wings swarm,
escaping from the catch in my throat.

Well, I could be dense, but you may want to clean up the clarity. Some of that may be accomplished by providing a title that works like a thesis statement or something like that. However, I may have missed the whole thing due to copious amounts of caffeine.