Crucified in dance and nipples
in full bloom, the seaweed body
of a girl I know will not live

forever sways. Hell flew a wax
Satan into her arms. I become
the outline of flesh eclipsing
words, ashes on paper, uncertain

thoughts, teeth, a freight train
inside of a soap bubble.

I shave my head against
you. I cannot wash
your glitter from my mouth,
and the nights are scarred
with stars. Burn my eyes, chain

my arms to stone. Steal my jaw;
shake it at the sky in eulogy.
Remember our final morning,

that slice of last October. Tell our cat
I love him. Kiss your husband as sweetly.

Moulin Review, 2010