July

 

she told herself

that she could be delicious

all lips and sweat and stained glass eyes

that she could be crushed and distilled

and devoured.

 

tightlips could touch her

bite her

someone could do it

someone could bundle and break her

 

It is July, the month when

countries kill their mothers

and fireflies singe the teeth

like too cold ice cream

 

And since this type of now

she’s smelled strange

taking herself out on a

clammy necked bicycle

looking for someone to hold

her boney hand

 

she can tell that he is extraordinary

she can tell everyone that he is

extraordinary

but the muscles of this summer

will not strengthen

only stretch themselves, into another gold and grey

hyperextending, telling more lies

 

she touches her face

and tastes a bloody raspberry

 

she could have them all

filming her, as their eyes grow sallow

they would watch her

and her heart would be a stranger

her eyes a sour, sun-melt candy

 

she could be delicious

as the veil crept down