Come, I’ll clean my teeth with you
and stain the furniture with echoing pulse.
I didn’t want to diagnose us
a waterfall of butter and melted wires
waves of licorice pulsing off the cliffs
arching your shoulders to carry the moon
a platter of metal and earth
but here we are
and I’ve crafted a bar cart of your limbs.
In the dialect of sapphire blinks
he said he could chisel slippers from the cold eclipse.
I reminded him to pluck the jewels from Orion
when he’s not looking and they’re left to curdle
in the jokes of Mercury, ripened and illustrious.
Black is flattering to my hips, but so are jewel tones.
I’m a winter in that sense, yet still so ignorant
in the fashion of tactile sensation and emotion.
Perhaps a sheer hare would do well for my calves.
A fox, rampant with flame and stoked with coffin velvet,
or a woodpecker with a wildfire in its laughter.
I look the best in demise and mourning –
these predators like a girl sadder than the dying moon.
But his tongue is softer, is warmer, than that. He says
this is all just beautiful, and so are you. I wear the furs
of a horror game sunset and call it a day.
The landlord will build you a waterfall of granite
collapsing to its knees along your hardwood floors
just bring the apples, prop up the broom
and drape novelty towels over the faucets
so the appliances sound like laughter
stock the dishwasher with the evidence of hungry ghosts
wipe down the reflections
cackling back from the polished steel
scrub away the phantoms
and convince me that we’re home.
You had never tasted the ocean,
letting the waves flay open your youth
and settle their scales inside taste buds
like little eggs – weaving saline discovery
into a granular pelt. I used this moment
to explain the writing process as volcanic
islands – breaching humpbacks –
an archipelago of keys and letters.
I meant to imply it was deliberate and, eventually, cold.
Calculated. Gelatinous. To you, however,
I’m just slow and warm,
a pulsating earth passing the time on lukewarm sludge
until I’m molded into something a bit more divine
and the universe, frozen and misshapen, lets me hibernate
once more beneath the mantle.