It All Went to Hell When He Donated His Body to Research


He has the sort of musculature that mad scientists experiment on.
It’s the Indian in him that surrenders, calm resignation to warfare.
The body is smooth & erotic, & I have buried my fingers in that hollow between bicep & pectoral. He is delicate with my hips. He chews lavender candy so that my mouth flowers


I make his shark eyes turn swimming pool blue.
I am an impermanent marker,
I am a white searing scar.
I feel every needle they puncture him with,
in that arm which I have claimed.
When they draw his blood, my hemoglobin goes down.


I’m so anemic now
& warn him of vampires & crazy glue
but he dreams poetry
into skeletons of the past
& my words disintegrate
ink mixed with soap.