cobra sink your
teeth
into this skin
again—
if i
c r a w l e d
toward you
I
would
b
u
r
y
myself
beneath you:
sanctuary
of
sinew— if i
draped
over
your
ribs
and
laid
b a r e
veins
hidden
in my throat,
would you infect the
blood,
the bone?
i
know
you are already
there, nightmare
sheen
of fever
sweat, i t/w\i/s\t
the
sheets
death
r-a-t-t-l-e
warns, i see
your
emerald-yellow eyes
over
my shoulder
wicked charmer, i
know
you
are p a r a l y t i c
i
shake in all the places you
are
not,
beg your
venom but—
it
is
(almost)
morning bruised light
bleeds
t h r o u g h
the
blinds,
illuminates my
reflection.
the eyes are
(almost)
my own;
your
emerald-yellow
remainder
s
e
e
p
s
away into
gray
ish
dawn.
(Note: heavily revised)
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