is a nest
full of stinging hornets. I wear
the welts like notches in her
draw of belts. Large red bumps
from all she's lumped on me,
making my head a knotted tree.

Her tongue
Is a stiletto
born in the ghetto,
slicing right through me
like a roll of salami. As she bears
down her knife I grow smaller
with every slice.

Her tongue
is a revolver
shot out of her mouth
in rounds. I cannot absolve her
of the crime. Words are weapons
bleeding through me all the time.