He tried to dig wells inside of me
With one of those spoon-fork-knife
All-inclusive combos.
Silly little things, and made of plastic too!
As if my walls were made of that pudding stuff.
Waste of injury! Foolish boy!
I should be outraged at the insult,
I should cry at his naiveté,
Spit on his back’s bending,
Curse his sweat’s rewarding the work.
But I cradle him close, let him dig softly, grip softly
Lest he break his tools
Lest he break this rhythm
I cradle him close and let concrete lap sweetly at his sweat.
And when we are this close, my fingers always dig sweetly into his back.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 7:06 PM UTC
He tried to dig wells inside of me
With one of those spoon-fork-knife
All-inclusive combos.
Silly little things, and made of plastic too!
As if my walls were made of that pudding stuff.
Waste of injury! Foolish boy!
I should be outraged at the insult,
I should cry at his naiveté,
Spit on his back’s bending,
Curse his sweat’s rewarding the work.
But I cradle him close, let him dig softly, grip softly
Lest he break his tools
Lest he break this rhythm
I cradle him close and let concrete lap sweetly at his sweat.
And when we are this close, my fingers always dig sweetly into his back.