What stories have we scraped
from the bare of our teeth
if we bear such abrasive tongues
in the drown of our cheeks?

Do we free the twitch
or the itch of the nape
if we leave our hands to hang
from skin so listful? For whose sake?

Let's let ourselves apart,
the tongue to sand the eyes,
the flesh to draw and boil
into oceans of salt and sky.

12/23/2018

Posted on 12/23/2018
Copyright © 2024 Matthew Zangen