The Phantasy of Flesh

This, your body – I will break it. Blister your skin under my tongue;
your crackling flesh, the easy give and chew of you. I must lip more
than your peripheries: stiffen each finger and nipple; your tongue

in my cheek. Your forbidden toes I will cleave to my innards. Please
don’t go. We have breathed this same air so long, strung our meanings
between ourselves. Your sweat knows the rivets of my spine. Inked

in each other, we lay down, my body the grave you dug and entered.
So butterfly your skin, twitch your tibialis at my incisive unpeeling.
Your bullfrog heart will croak in my throat. I will groan then quiet

your larynx with the gulp of my craw. Thanatos! Pray for us,
in extremis! Feed me the mariner’s last resort, shipwrecked on this
outcrop of the lonely, the stench of the singular buzzing in our ears.

I would be marooned in you, justified and indivisible. Take it, eat it.
Our softened edges are no more, my lovely, for you have always been
my breached border. And, in a blur of blood, I gullet the world.


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