she vomited and sobbed
and pissed and spilled
breadcrumbs in this bed where
i sit between her kneecaps
praying that my god will ground me
in her legs long enough
to express into her voice
into her neck
into the sleeve of her white shirt
the eyelids of the skyscraper that
like glass catches fire
in the eye and scrapes the lashes
in the purple anguish of bottom lips
and peeling lips
and red stubble
like red ant hills in the cracks
of the sidewalk
in front of her house
the airless sore throats of myself
and the grave worms
who ourselves suck on thick stomach
and the mildew of boiling skin
to hope for a mouthful of shifting rib
and collarbone to bite and spit out at her
tiny curled toes to express the ache
of the sameness of bedhead
and the straight preacher inside of my cunt
who swelters as in hell and grows his nails
long to screw through my muscles out
to be the words that will brick in her brain
as the husband i will not have
and the abdomen beneath the wedding
dress that will be my mother's
and her mother's
and the parasitic child who will grow
and explode her mothers too
as the salt of my lip corners
that covered with eyelids
scratch at the cold
fat of thighs and calves and breasts
and the sex between the layers of my skin
and my mouth full of my tongue and of flesh
heaves an apology and a plea that is
slammed back into my throat
by the knuckled hand of the homophobic christian dick
who speaks on behalf of his god and fingers
himself just to sweat the way
i do for the woman
who will hold me in god's hell
under the street lamps
where i will keen into her neck
and into her throat
and into the flesh around her ribs
and thank her through flakes of fire