Alone with strangers, I

melt into gravel. Their boots

make a satisfying crunch

as they grind me down into earth.

Plastered in vinyl, we

peel persimmons and

black out the sun with

fistfuls of ash

as the train screams and

cheap bourbon consecrates

the tracks. Twinkling shards

of glass catch the moonlight

as pain radiates through the

nerves in my teeth. Air seeps

from the hole in my lungs:

I begin to vibrate

on a new frequency

I am radiant as mud in the

sharp hours of the morning,

slick and slippery as an eel.

Tell me what you

want from me; or don’t.

Let me move through you

and in you until I am reborn

in your image; squishy bits

of rusted blood and pulverized

bone poured out into a new skin,

baby soft and latex free.