you’ll always find another place to go
you’ll always find another wound to grow
grow another womb inside yourself
to go
home to
so that you can rub the feeling out of your skin
the baby-faced hate around your eyes
down my cheeks
where
that water’s only vice
is that of gravity
the perverseness of the wetness
the innocence you vacillate in
and anxiety as it leaves you on cold gym equipment.
find me in my shallows of it
puddled at your feet
all raining down
looking up
soaking back up into your thews
suddlenly in a pool of it,
deep and warm and bright in the dark.
one street over
artificial and blue
next to a natural ebony lake of night
fumbling on the top of a wire fence into it
through cracked lenses
that left your heart pumping
waiting for an alarm to sound
pausing and panting and running for a *dip*
to just say that you did
and get the fuck right out of there
(slow it down; hold your ground)
