She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote

I see the
Ceaseless
Stubborn
Splashing
Spraying
Salty
Suffering
Sensuous
Scent of the
Sea.

Fangs aren't required
to tear into meat.
Blunt teeth and hidden molars
do just fine.
It may take more
chewing,
more mulling over
the dead thing
in your mouth,
but eventually
you will savor and devour it,
and swallow it down,
forgetting after the last gulp
about the life you just
consumed.

His eyes spoke profoundly what his lips couldn't utter.
©Sonia Ettyang