Scraped

chinatown blue
pieces of my knee embedded in the wet cement, merged well with with the blueness
a fleshy kiss to the ground
often an honest sacrifice, and the most romantic-

He leaves to China for a month tomorrow, oh mannnnn I've had a thing for him for AGES!!!

old sixteen, weird summer.
a holographic Jesus with a fruit bowl
jesus and a litter of kittens- when you tilt the image to the left he clasps his hands together in prayer.
the kittens mew!

the golden cat's head clocks side to side, and you kind of have to dance to it
our ears ring a perfect C, what a funny walk he has
heel out of shoe

screaming match as serenade
absurd comfort, fearful resistance
parting parting, the jeans come off
my AC is broke. It's a fish market again

tell me you love me, I love you I love you
up on the window sill, head out the window looking up
in and out
it's all gritty and delicate at once
a nice bruised sky mirroring my left hip

the rotting dragon fruit, pretty till it stinks
there was rust in my hair which he liked to wash out with his own hands, smart thumbs who know me.
still an ape
out of the shower, such silvery skin
flat fingernails with small ridges beneath my chin. I hand it all over
the back of the hand is more telling
safe in the chinatown blue
nothing is made, permanence drowns him
open gills
I can't say it again, but when he sees me he knows it. Such a sad secret keeper
the predatory adult, an internal knuckle whip
soreness with the boss
nerves are bloody

he breaks the casket he told me to keep
don't tell me that they're all the same
a muzzle of construction tape, not choking but still binding
more like a bandage
mouth as a wound and mistake

transcontinental beast
hiding in chinatown blue
he licks my armpit with a greasy tongue and I laugh
so remote
everyone has found themselves writing a poem at one time or another

lucky cat
you're so sure that I regret the excess-
Too many cabinets in American kitchens

A stranger says
girl you're good
forget about death
you get me in the mood
drink your milk and come to bed
it's wartime anyway

I'm not the type to escape but maybe to elude
I was taught the way through chinatown blue