• Your batted breath beats
    on the back of my neck,
    honey bees stinging my spine

    Sharp and warming down my
    shirt
    Your cold hands chill my blood,
    Icey voice echoing though speakers
    on the insides of my thighs
    and as I listen to the
    undertones in the tendons of your throat swaying
    I remember when we
    ( with crowns of rosemary in our hair )
    would swing on tires
    that smelled like sunlight
    and scream at the top of our lungs
    just because
    we weren't allowed to

    The features of your face burn like a brand,
    pink wrinkles in my brain
    that look like your broken nose
    and chubby smile
    small squinted eyes
    blind and red
    hungry pools of gray blue
    that you don't know what to do with
    and with your long and boney fingers you would
    braid my hair and sing
    in a language
    only we knew

    Clicks and whistles and hums
    that meant only good things
    and were too vague
    for lying

    You speak many languages
    your tongues fly in different colors
    and with bees in my breath
    I choke and listen
    to your voice
    murmuring in my skirt