when i dice
warm-tendered skin
like a blade to
mango exposing sweet flesh
and glide cut glass
on pulsing veins
i feel present again-
brought back to earth by fire
take a long crunch and the juice
seems to drip and stream
off the side of my mouth
i stay needing more
never reaching contentment
feeling it stiffen and stick on my elbows
like icee syrup
a lightening bolt of heat
that runs through the sutures
of the back of my skull
i let out a deep sigh
needing to continue
needing to go deeper
go farther
release and resort to a pile
of used ribbons
loose and maleable
and limp
like my visions of you