Feb 16, 2018
Untitled
tell me all of the boundaries you’ve crossed
show me the condoms on the parking garage you burnt down
you hide knives under your tongue & bite into her like a peach
every line on her body is a road you’ve crossed without looking
stars burrow their faces into my socks like thistles
in the mourning i sprint towards the mouth of the sun
these martinis taste like tears, she says
rooftop wisdom is the theory of the apocalypse
protocols when walls turn to dust
the sophistic riddle of the lock picker
whispered between collarbones
trying to get a kiss
in the middle of a bar fight
she’s a copy of a woman
sad imposter of a shadow
fighting the anesthesia
kill the surgeon