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