when the flesh parts

i lie, baked by sunshine, underneath your wilting limbs.

you break the surface tension, coming to in fits & starts,

caterpillar feet tickle the inner thigh,

sprawled out over the lip of the coffee mug.

i dip a toe in, stirring the cream, fighting to not turn in your direction.

all i can do is breathe in bitter & keep my teeth to myself.

my lip drags behind, a forgotten vessel trying its best to keep up 

but your tongue is fearless

& i am made of birth marks & facial ticks—

a lagging.

you are already dripping vinegar on the sheets & i still haven’t turned my head to you.

you tug my hair like i am done in pigtails & fairy wings but

i am just a pile of nude, forgotten on the laundry room floor, growing mildew in my navel.

you made me from skin grafts & stolen blood.

i am never human in your shadow.

break it open.

just another jaw snapping. 

i try to lift an arm but i am still pressed beneath your heart beat that’s

reaching a fever pitch in the light of tuesday come again to remind me of the monotony

of your love.

your skin peels from mine like vinyl & you press the needle to my cheek waiting for the music

but all is screams & blame.

i peel your flesh from your core with eyes blacker than yours & pray

you don’t wake up again.