what does all of this
mean to you?
she waves her hand
to no one. 

you say it’s important,
ask me to tell it in
“linear order”
but how can I get away with
things telling stories like
I have survived time
and cage and aged
in linear order.
my proof
    (I flex a ripped tricep)
is endless strength
and brimming veins
that have learned how to
whistle when your girl
walks by me.

now all you see at
night is a doe
gored in your forest
I got to eat the whole orchard
I asked for.
nearly choked,
quite frankly worth it.
are you lost
or just quiet? 
just hiding.
you know I’m dense,

ice cold, flush with
forked tongue ready to
someone,    i’m lush;
maintaining a sense of
dam and containment
even in my most berating
fits of temper or panic,
I manage to remain
frozen these days
like a cracking lake
you say I am
sharp and

but underneath my skin,
that blue-lace casing,
a carnise river:
little tributaries to
the turning of the world
in linear delivery.
and you say
full of rage     and I say

you and I are from
the same place
and I start to pace
the block once
thoughts of swords
in my back
your fingers
on the handle,
but in my yard.
my steps are ever
silent and my
dry lips pursed
lightly, pucker
press the back of your neck
to taste your cologne
as I wrap my
pointy, my candy
apple colored nails
around your

and I just start humming.


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