You must have sown me with cocoons
When you licked my lips and filled my throat.
I flutter, buoyed by tiny iridescents
With every billowing fleshy thought.

It is early but I am drawing the blinds.
The clock is turned to the wall, my ears
Taste fiddle that burns sweet like whiskey.
I am calling out the wrong name and
Painting my belly with old blood
From what’s hers all hers
But I call out the wrong name.
I feel my ribs rise and see
My hips crack and
And hear my flesh ache
And I can’t stop.
I smell iron, food
That was good once.
I was good once.

I left you last night
For a pad of paper and a pen.
You took your tongue from my mouth
And every orifice spewed words
That had been crammed in
The space behind my eyes,
The base of my skull.

You were humming from body and I
From brain when I leapt up
To scribble so hard my ******* shook
And my fingers ached like a happy
Heart.

I finished quick but shook still,
Bones echoing groans full of soil and stone.
I sat and bathed my sore hands
In the remembered rhythm of you and
Your muddy whimpers.

I didn’t much mind the cold;
I had a better view of you curled on the covers,
Eyes closed loosely, chunks of my wall
Underneath your nails,
Little flesh shell on my beach.

And I do not much mind now
Being the territory
Of a cartographer with such sharp nails.
See, you came and,
Conquered, I love your little red lines.

Derelict highways, these arms were and
Unused to the fingers skidding now down their lanes.

Now
Belly long empty grinds glass
Ears long deaf vibrate bass
And leaves long green bleed red in your yard.

It is hard to be unhappy in sunlit skin
That’s bare on bright red fabric.
Pistons pump and wheels roll by below.
The radio’s
Downstairs, chattering and muffled.
You are cradled by a noisy silence.
You are suckled by aimless
Nostalgia and spoon-fed by the present.
Don't clasp at the future but
Let it hum and dance before you
Because then
The past caresses, and does not sting.
Motes twinkling above your eyes;
Sigh and they swing shyly
From the beams that wet your carpet.
Swallow solitude, baby and
Let it drip down your chin.
You are ok.