Dull metal, no, dull senses
Feels like I'm dying, like I'm living
Blood, frothy,
Viscous, wanton, throbbing
Swells pale skin.
Closet, cramped, bare back
against a scratched wall
handle trembling,
teeth chatter like bird beaks
a mouth oozing with spit.
It won't come, I won't
let this foreplay cease
in a climax. Teasing, wandering
criss-crosses of wounds
legs spread in want of the blade.
Diediediediediediediediediedie-
I won't.
I can't.
The scars remain on me
and they rub against the scratch
of my shirt. Tomorrow, darling
they say to me, Always later,
Always tomorrow