Writing

Calculated [a Haiku].

I steal you from her;

push your buttons with my lips,

reprogram your heart.

Out, damned spot.

You thrust through me—with with your thumbs pressed into my hips
My blood smears between my thighs,
onto the white towel,
I flip the picture frames on your headboard facedown.

When we’re done
I run my fingertips along the rack of her clothing in your room
and think what nice style she has.
You ask me if I want to clean off in the shower;
I think to myself
I don’t think that’s going to be enough.

Dinner [a Haiku].

We sit in silence,

You poke at peas with a fork,

I know we are done.

Wine and words.

October has been so uncharacteristically warm

on this blueblack night

tangled in reeds

and blankets on the beach,

salt spray and moon milk pouring over us;

words

fall from our mouths

as easily as the wine flows in;

sentences

punctuated by tannic kisses.

Burn, baby

You said you wanted someone to make you feel alive,

I wont apologize

for setting you on fire.

I lost myself in you

I lost myself in you;
Buttons in the bottom of a boot
Bouncing into rubber walls,
Getting stepped on.

He rubbed

He rubbed me down with coconut oil;

It was supposed to be sexy.

And as hard as he rubbed

I didn’t come

over anymore.

Walk of shame.

It’s almost Halloween.
The neighbors put up those fake spiderwebs
again.
I drop my keys
and get caught up—

How fucking appropriate.

As soon as I untangle myself
from your sheets
I get tangled up in these infernal webs.

I’m just.
trying.
to get home.

Feast.

You greased my lips like olive oil

and opened me up—

peeled back the foil.

You let—my steam—

seep out.

The Cost.

You offered me a ride home
so I didn’t have to take a cab.
I thought it was safe because

I knew you
and you dated
her.

You opened the car door like a gentleman—
(I thought)—
and slapped me firmly
on the ass.

I knew it wasn’t fair

but it was fare:
and that’s how I learned that nothing is free.