Matana

bare soles cold on checkerboard marble, fastidious with the basement closet lock like chess, like your pitch shifting as you patter down the incline  muttering “they don’t believe me,” body gutted like a stone basin  having raised it high above your head, fingers slipping beneath the basalt a bowl of pure bleach tilting over, Lashing At The Ankles chemicals chiseling past bone  White for the sake of Red for the sake of Nothingness. there You Are, shining ultramarine glinting in constant motion, a mosaic of glassy beads  like your eyes glossing over at the return of your limbs, lead like underneath starving for her as if she is not me 

His footsteps prowl the foyer, left fist chokes a gun howling out your name he takes a drag his lungs pluck you up, just collateral up by the eyelashes, lids stretched taut like a banjo drum  up like an angel drifting up the rail (don’t let him find you first) 

the static of our figures in close range, your pupils dark plum pits of a pistol or spoiled fruit that starts to soften, your palms with give against my own syrupy centers seeping at the slightest pressure. “I’m in decay” he points at rotten spots where bugs started to eat away like all overripe things tend to say too sweet for earth to take  an urge fled his eyes when he said my name kind, like a treasure he searched far and wide. 

he held me like a mother, arms crescent moons to crawl inside red shirt turning deep maroon below my eyes  like our sills in August when a storm won’t dry  and the scratch of heat lightning, harsh tremors with no sound in Wonder watch the ocean Quicken Through Me