Before, After, During
Are you just someone new I might wake up to for a while?
The touch of your fingertips
a spell to conjure worth
from wasted breath
I used to lick your pelvic tattoos
expecting the blue skin to taste
different
I’ve never been good at igniting tenderness
fighting sad with worse sad
using the bone of one whale to harpoon another
isn’t beautiful
The bloom of your cheeks
like all living things
had a season
I lived here once
I need not return
Would you do it in the woods?
I have learned to throw myself
down and pin back my own shoulders
split the black lace on purpose as I
rip
Between the unseen
bird’s sweet beckoning
I swim
down myself
A river filled
with thick cotton rags
Dry as licking
cinnamon and sand
You swim behind me
and whisper wetly
I taste skinny dipping
in a glass of bourbon
Brass knuckles and blush
Pop stars eating poptarts
Finger fuckin’ good
I bet I
taste like your mother does
like a small knife
taste like your favorite cock-
tail spiked with antifreeze
Taste like you can try it
love it
but it will kill you
After
you slouch spent against the rock asking why
do you love me?
And my anger shrunk to an egg
I could swallow or drown
You’ll wear yourself out you said
I’m sorry I was drifting
Maybe I could be expelled from my body
follow a few feet behind it
like a scolded child
No better way to curb my addiction (to what?)
than to martyr
to dance
in ankle-deep glass
I was lovely for a moment wasn’t I?
the second before a scratch turns bloody
the time before water turned lands muddy
Why how do you sleep so fucking much?
The way you curl up
too big even on the guest room bed
too tall you always lie
in a diagonal
And rub
your chin against my thigh
the most endearing most ungraceful vibration of air
I dreamt you were with him
you’d wake up and tell me
And myself
I dream of nothing too often
Rows of ovens unbolting
one by one their large
bald concentric throats
Or dirt’s blunt bitterness prying
my mouth open
to lump itself inside
sprouting pale roots from limp limbs
And me grinning all the while
as though I kept catastrophe
cupped tight in the heart
All selves are quartered flayed severed
into fillets
plated to be saved
sliced well beneath the belly’s protrusion
I dreamt I was a fish
receiving c-section
I’d never wake up and tell you
———————————————————————————————————————
Before, After, During
Are you just someone new I might wake up to for a while?
The touch of your fingertips
a spell to conjure worth
from wasted breath
I used to lick your pelvic tattoos
expecting the blue skin to taste
different
I’ve never been good at igniting tenderness
often fight sad with worse sad
and using the bone of one whale to harpoon another
isn’t beautiful
The bloom of your cheeks
like all living things
had a season
I lived here once
I need not return
Would you do it in the woods?
I have learned to throw myself down
Pin back my own shoulders1
Split the black lace on purpose as I
Rip
Between the unseen bird’s sweet beckoning
I swim down myself
A river filled
with thick cotton rags
Dry as licking
cinnamon and sand
You swim just behind me
and whisper
wetly
I taste skinny dipping
in a glass of bourbon
Brass knuckles and blush
Pop stars eating poptarts
Finger fuckin’ good
I bet I
taste like your mother does. Like a small
knife. Taste like your favorite cock-
tail spiked with antifreeze.
Taste like you can try it. You can love it.
But it will kill you.
After,
you slouch spent against the rock asking why
do you love me
And my anger shrunk to an egg
I could swallow or drown
You’ll wear yourself out, you said
I’m sorry I was drifting
Maybe I could be expelled from my body
Follow a few feet behind it
like a scolded child
No better way to curb my addiction (to what?)
than to martyr
to dance
in ankle-deep glass
I was lovely for a moment wasn’t I?
Like blood in a vial
You were too
Why how do you sleep so fucking much?
The way you curl up
Too big even on the guest room bed
Too tall you lie in a diagonal out of habit
And rub
Your chin against my thigh
The most endearing most ungraceful vibration of air
I dreamt you were with him
You’d wake up and tell me
And myself
I dream of nothing too often
Rows of ovens unbolting
One by one their large
bald concentric throats
Or dirt’s blunt bitterness prying
my mouth open
to lump itself inside
to sprout pale roots from limp limbs
And me grinning all the while
as though I kept
catastrophe cupped tight in the heart
all selves are quartered, flayed, severed into
fillets, plated to be saved
sliced well beneath the belly’s protrusion
I dreamt I was a fish
receiving c-section
I’d never wake up and tell you