I'm being pulled apart in two directions,
two people touching toes,
grasping hands with cracking winter skin
lean back
and yank with all your body weight and more.
Let the moon make you sway as if you're standing on the tides past the shore
leaning back further,
skin on the tops of your hands ripping apart ****** and dry.
I feel a furrowed brow with forehead muscles pressed together so tight
intensity in each other's eyes like there were forests that burned down
from a kitchen fire, a mother crying
begging them to save her family but they had already met at the mailbox
like they planned out years ago.
And the heels of the shoes are digging like crustaceans into the tile of the hallway,
little *****' sharpened legs endowed in seaweed and salt
hiding under rocks screaming so quietly
not a single fish in the sea heard them say
"stay."