Feeling a little
steamy under my tooth
parts are mashing
into molecules forming
mold or else
paint to soil my tongue
with- spreading like gauche
on my palate your finger
pokes into goo coming
away red with ink
and enamel. My mouth
is parted: drying out
all saliva possibilities of
healing my sore throat
now drier for the range of
coffees I’ve washed you
down with the mouth
that water forgot.
Place me under your fingernail!
I’ll sting like garlic
pressed and tucked
and smelled.
in my ear
I’ll take your dead
skin and hold it
as an ear plug
against the sounds
of
my
own
curling
up
away into your hand
so far as to never
be touched
twisted open
like a raisin hydrated in
something too bland and sweet
to be understood and digested
properly. I wanted to know you but I feel
so
soaked
stuffed with peas
I will be snapped
open for shelling and
chewing—eventually over
cooking and
mushing

-July 2018
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