Vines blink in form voracious they stab
mud garden, this niche lay ahead
Mist as others save her gave her
A thousand hints stable kind of pelt
Divider fang gash and dig stark shredder
a sick lark clan increase drought,
wise to dance for craft an admitter,
in the bathtub cause will spread.
No man sleep there hanged in popular
sick loudless off then get in bed nine
Get church there glider panther still
a hurt in cats zen off resign
dirty hands, this chapel is closed
indefinite flesh prison/hatred
a blood moon – eclipse
I must have been an angel in the beginning
a raped viking vessel
try me, fucker, try my eyes
like lies and liars and sinners
I must have given myself to the flame
scarlet ink, gunpowder, hitched skirts,
string me up on your bloody bleeding cross
your finger to my lips
how do they taste
the wind laced/poison breath
the harbor reminds me of death
Buzzz. Buzzz. Pause: wet paper towel. Buzzz. Does it hurt? No, not really. It’s worth it.
That’s what they all say. Clenched teeth. Buzzz. Buzzz. Where do you go to school? Buzzz.
Pause: loading more ink. Oh, yeah? I went there too. Do you like it? Buzzz. The boy’s arm twitches.
Stay still. Buzzz. Buzzz. His leg, this time. Need a break? No.
That’s what they all say. Buzzz. It’s nearly finished. A wonky black shape, to you. For him, a breakneck taboo.
One slip, a falling trick, then she’s in his arms, a CRASH.
He traces her Picasso cheekbones. The back of his hand comes away, a smear of soft yellow glitter.
She frets about the smear. Do I still look alright? She fears.
It looks fine. But then the eyes. Can you see them? She asks. They follow her. There are so many.
He doesn’t know what to say. Can he make it up to her, in any way? He’s not sure what he did wrong.