his body: swung in the drippy-foam.   As gunmetal
cements unwavering   bites on his collarbone,
I force myself from    
hunger  and exodus.   maybe i, too  
exit like light,         searching warmth in mouths  
            un-flavored         desolate electricity.
maybe i, too will compress my body into       bruise
and swallow     the excess.
but for what i want is to want        his syllables
leashed around my neck,   peeling the
ululated marks hugged on my belly.        i wait for the flooding
to swell us upstream.