Two Years Since the Bloodletting
Place your hand in mine. Your touch feels like paper inflamed. In our bathtub
my hand swims the way fish slant toward the light in some shallow spill, up
like iron into blood. The freedom near your lips slopes straight, like
mine would, only I want it worse. “I’ll suck your pipe down.”
Yeah, that place. That way. The iron in the mine
rings like red paper. Dragonfly slant. Red rapier. I’m free. Worse,
that flame has sent some strikes. Straight through, run water through my pipe.
Your bathtub or mine? I’m up like your plumbing. I’m down.
place paper flame bathtub
way slant some up
iron free straight like
mine worse pipe down
World, you know I was never as prescient
as when I procured my abortifacient.
—Janann Dawkins, Ann Arbor, MI