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A flat stomach for the litter of mouths. Staining the dress,
Berries the cat runs away. The hollow of the hay tractor
Hum all the cigarette water tower. In the
Back yard, in the towel to cover your mouth,
The hay blood in red air.
Three circles around the house in
Full skirt. The litter follows,
The hum swallows.
--
This is the breakfast I made for you. This is the open-air
Lotion. This is the balm for the hours we wasted. This is the unkind
Wording. Written on the
Back of your fingers, written by the fruit wasted in the window.
The sepia thumb bruises on your fat cheeks,
Washing and peeling the skins.
--
The place behind your ear
Is safe for nature. He comes to drink
In all the tall grass you wander. Until dark.
Hide your wrists, too.
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