Monday, October 2, 2017

If My Kiss Tastes Like a Tree

splinters of wood
when handling beams
would sliver into the fingertips

i always felt them
but only a few hurt enough to pull out

the rest
i left
in there

my
fingers
my
flesh
grew around them
and now they're so deep
i don't notice
or if i do
barely

it's no longer as if i formed around them
but with them

i am the splinter
and the splinter is me

that is how each of her kisses
was

so now
when you kiss me
and ask if i've been gnawing on a branch
i don't understand

i'm so used to it
it seems natural

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