Desperate attempts at Cementing the evergreen rainforest
I rip the staples out of my forearm,
with the aggressive energy of a hungry and callous vampire,
a narcissistic power-hungry vampire,
taking its first bite,
—pinning her down and entering her arched neck,
with sloppy lust and gluttonous over-slurp.
The staples shine in my hand and I feel
the hazy embrace of endorphins I confuse for him.
My eyes are squinted tight, my legs wobble and I recall cafes,
off the L,
cafes off the G,
cafes off the 4,5,6;
I recall his lap, his shoulder,
his guts, swirling with caffeine.
My forearm is splurting rouge onto my cheek.
Intrigued, my tongue curves towards
and licks off the salty evidence
of what’s under my skin.