Give me swollen hands
Brandished, perforated, silver leek of rum
My mouth is a tangy trench
it yearns for terrible things

Place slender bones
beneath my tongue
Let me study their dents
where the earth burned and the meteor rejoiced
between saliva and epidermal forests
Skin hanging between teeth
truth like octopus on water trees
flesh inside flesh, color flossing cloth jaws

Give me arms, that take worms like love
that have entered the soil, its bloody wrath, its desolate entirety,
where men sleep forever, no different from lamb peel
rubber veins that have cuddled death and fallen stars,
their mass graves inside stem cells

Give me the parabolic breath of an awakened thumb, fingers that nibble and immerse in films of milk,
outstretched and clawing, with pink flesh combusting like powder,
where God served judgment too early, give me tiny deaths in my mouth,
I will lick them all
as my cheekbones slope like cement sinks
under the weight of dribbling water

Give me the color of falling light
Let me wear it on my face
the absoluteness of truth
prismatic lights, shadows and rims
Let me wear violet to red under this bleeding nose
maybe then you can see
The truth
that so aches to be seen

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35 thoughts on “What-my-mouth-wants

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