I’m still waiting for something to happen.
I hand him my body & he fumbles with it
like I am the car key & lust is some
masked figure hiding behind the bushes.
Burn the bushes.
It was only a suggestion.
I hand him my body & he drops it
& pavement makes my bones break
into an accidental mosaic.
He thinks this is beautiful.
He thinks this means something
sentimental & rose-tinted.
He thinks blood is the answer
to all of life’s awkward situations.
This is where he learns
how love works. The key
slips into the lock,
but doors only make music
when someone kicks them in.