there are daggers in my earholes. | 1 |
the first earholes, if you count from | 2 |
the inside out, like i do. | 3 |
eat wine and drink bread, like i do. | 4 |
love your god with an iron pyrite | 5 |
heart, like i do. | 6 |
| |
and he's my mophead, | 7 |
we lay on floors together | 8 |
with limbs locked in Saran wrap. | 9 |
my secret boyfriend | 10 |
who's bad at stealing discreet kisses, | 11 |
he wants to drop acid | 12 |
on New Year's. | 13 |
| |
there are daggers in his eyes. | 14 |
the left eyes, if you count them | 15 |
in a column, like i do. | 16 |
stare blankly and cry quietly, like i do. | 17 |
love your lover with a stale | 18 |
reservoir of good will, like i do. | 19 |
| |
and the wind steers aptly | 20 |
through tunneled alleys, | 21 |
never masking the indomitable | 22 |
stench of swine. | 23 |
we pay good money | 24 |
to be this cold and hungry | 25 |
on amulet holidays. | 26 |