Fire In Your Pants?

listen, i do not
speak without meaning, i don't
deal in frivolities, listen:
when i have words
i have words as heavy as breathing.
and yours are of no consequence.
i am never yours; i am
my own mouth.

yes i swear when i handed you
that corner of me, it was
not native mask, derring-do,
not what you gave me,
but a brass token. a leather medallion. something
ugly, something
real.
with long scratches
marring your reflection.

dontattemptforcing that
crystal goblet of nectar
down my scraped throat.

i am parched,
but your sugar ocean
is no remedy for dry curling edges.



liar.