Killing Floor
I wakes a million miles from itself,
lifts the sheet, rubs the mole on your cheek,
starts to fall then catches itself,
watches you raise your dress,
loves you like that,
drills through the Moscow ice to paradise.
I remembers how you cried in the kitchen and
stands beside him waiting, but he doesn't get up,
so I kicks him again.
I sees you in the street,
doesn't believe it, stares through the window,
drags you out, laughs, hugs himself,
screams, for a moment thinks it's you falling
towards him.
I bends over your breast and sings,
tips back its head,
kisses your neck and face,
wants more, holds you by your braids,
wakes from nightmare,
knows it'll fly apart soon,
covers its ears,
slips into the men's room and bolts the door,
eats the food you fried,
wipes its hands on its shirt.
I stabs itself in the belly.
by Joe Ahearn