nothing like a bit
of identity theft to
spice up an evening

late monday desk lunch
ripe cherries & a pit cup
skipping all these songs

i just need to say

i’m confident that

dante rossetti had

a choke fetish be-

cause just look at

how he painted all

his necks & hands

i’ll just be over here
hanging around from
that fistful of my own
entrails you clawed
out after i let you in

he keeps a
poem in his
knuckles

but if i pull
his hands &
plead a bit

he will put
its words on
my tongue

with those
salt pads of
his fingers