Jungle Fever
The word wanders, nomadic
epicenter crumbles, the source sporadic
a jungle fever

sweat out the words
wash January off my body
via cold shower, swell into
the jittering cloud of cigar smoke
inhaled via the last twitching
gasps of night;

Oh how heavy night can be against
my arched back, or the pull of your
finger out of my hand, the awkward
circumference,

you
steal
a
kiss
from
behind,

pull me aside

I am a footnote to your pathological
fraud;

a pox on what I thought,
a pox on what I wanted

a feral disease
speckled across my face;
the bridge of my nose—

you asked if I had broken it once,
I said no

the bump was inherited,

but this fever,
this jungle dance
these words
marrow-hungry, empty womb
motherless
enabled,

you are suddenly lightheaded
and the smokestacks sashay
across the neon sky
exploding into a pageant
of fireworks

a pretty girl is a spark
once ignited she quickly fades away.