When she chooses me God she chooses me All hands and teeth and nails and she's saying things to me like Put your hands on my neck And whispering things like *** into me
But when she doesn't choose me It's a distance I've never known A shoulder car colder than this winter My toes are frozen in my boots My stomach growls insistently My tongue sprouts hair and sticks painfully to my mouth Though I don't protest I simply sit at the shoreline awaiting the next pummeling of blood, salt, and passion