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
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.
A bird in love with the age
with the time
He doesn’t know any better
A big party this will be
He’ll dance with a sparrow-girl
made of silk and pine needles
Her lips are soft
like a spot between her breasts
He, an eagle-boy
a thing of afternoon sunshine and ash
made of glass and iron spikes
She’s covered in bandages
Not his fault
A darkness fleeting.
Your own light bulb,
crushed under your own two feet.
A smear of blue.
A drop of red,
on your stomach,
the side of his bed.
You can still see his voice,
dripping in barbed desire.
Something tangled up,
between your thighs,
around your pretty neck.
It was only the sheets.
up to their necks in rose colored lust.
Their eyes are lowered to the ground.
I cannot stop this bleeding
With the cries of men beating at my back.
And this heroic candlelight,
offering much more than virtue.
To the common moth,
a broader view.
They were lying in the dark,
by a set of iron stairs.
He spotted a hawk,
talons digging into her calf.
It’s eyes were rubies.
There was this puddle,
by his head.
He imagined it tasted like battery acid,
or the side of her neck.
In her mind,
she translating the alphabet.
The one scratched on her
Cross-legged in your basement,
You didn’t know I was there.
puttering above my head.
Can you hear me?
on your neck,
but I wasn’t the one who put it there.
I was in your attic,
lounging on some cans of blue spray paint.
I heard you singing,
in the shower beneath my feet.
because she was there too.
that just wouldn’t do.
I remembered the carving knife,
on your cutting board.
You should of seen my face just then,
lit up and glowing.