i.
i'm choleric and that's nothing new

ii.
wrapped in a quilt, i toil and sully our sarsaparilla love

iii.
in the frosty morning
an ancient beast rears its head

iv.
it implodes quietly at the bottom of the mekong

v.
this isn't language; it's pornographic license

shibumi, bruised eyelids, loitering on the pedway

flickering between hellish
concrete and clear air,
clutching an unraveling yarn
of smoke in her mouth

waiting in front of the liquor store
for her man

and mouthing to his back as he turns,

"i love you; i love you, stay inside"