David is so much ****** origami by now

It is 4 am and I find him folded to the floor
A cigarette in his mouth
He is trying to stand

He is immune to his sleeping pills
But we can’t give him more

So he wakes dreamily to smoke

He breaks things

He broke things

Threw me through a plate glass window once

I carry him to the couch

Don’t ******* touch me
I can walk *******

I take the cigarette from him and finish it

I don’t smoke

I wipe the blood from his nose
And the torn shreds of skin peeling from his paper arms

I think about what people have said to me
About how abused kids abuse what they can

I wonder how I will hurt the people I love
When it finally comes to that

When loving me back is dangerous

I tuck him in tight enough so that he might not get up
The rest of the night

He laughs to himself

Maybe he hasn’t stopped dreaming

I’ve never wanted to hurt anybody

Even him

Especially because

I don’t love him

Walked in like B flat
Slow music playing
Heels clicked like staccato
Dress cello imitating
Blue notes sunken
Drunken with the motion
Of the left right sway
Spin, dip, heads floating
River more than ocean
She never stands still
She don't shoot the breeze
Heart-breaker, shoot to ****
Then she transposed the thrill
B harmonic minor
Tango, stomp, clap
Somebody shot the dress designer.
Violence in the night
Gasoline on the floor
Swift step matchstick heels
She adores the
White
Light
Like coconut cream
Musicians bathe with the moon
Sleep with its beams
Play until the world
Seems to burst at the seams
Set fire to the rivers
Inhale the steam
Descend with the fifths
Never rest on a trill
Cut the drums, spotlight
Let her transpose the thrill

I stretch,
my body limber,
cat-like, and spry.
The right hand corner of my mouth
turns up into a smirk
as I sing my own praises.

I want to make love to you violently

I want to put my hands on you

I have been told that I am a good lover
Because of the way I use my hands

Forgive my fingerprints
I am still learning how to be gentle

And

I want to ******* like a crime scene

So much DNA evidence in the aftermath
We both come like ******

It is your hair
And skin
And sweat

In my nails
And teeth
And sheets

I have never done things gracefully

But I have learned that loving proper
Is not seen in how well you say grace
But is seen in your willingness to sit at the table

I will dine on you

Leave my sweet tooth in your naval

You can scar up my empty spots

Until this hardened tissue
Becomes the secret cuneiform of regret
For all the ways I didn’t love you
When I had the chance

Now’s my chance
To love you like a vagrant fire in a forest
When I was busy building homes
At the base of your volcano

These hands are practiced
in callous
in rough
in firm grip steel kettle fire without the wet rag

And I want to put them on you

Until none of this makes sense