I stole something today, something
small, clustered buzzing neon lights
bright and explosive pleasure cries,
the kind that sell for an hour
but remain bitter and chalky
when swallowed dry. I paid for it with

earl gray and soft sighs, melting
sunrises the colors of quiet,
maroon and hazel and sweet corners of dusk.
She cracked herself open, like an egg or a popsicklestick bird cage,
ended her reign of my kingdom and handed me
the dripping, palpitating mass of dreams
that once existed behind her shuttered curtains.

I pulled it to my sternum, steaming
red and grained muscle hot in my
shaking hand. She smiled, those
earl grays that soothed stabbed those
pillows that pressed smothered and those
apples that blossomed rotted beneath soured flesh. My head bowed,

my chin pressed to my chest so that I might’ve
gnawed through my backbone. I
opened my mouth and bit
into her heart, and chewed in time to the
echoing of her clicking heels.