1363

I come over

my sarcophagus in tow

a stack of bricks in twine

dangling from my mouth

ready to entomb you

next to me

but

before I start

you tell me

there’s no meaning anymore

I make a bed in an anthill

to feel at home

cough up your perfume

ask my new compatriots

what it’s like

to be so small

remember when you were French

at a party

and I saw you by the riverboats

pulling out your hair

having dreams of anonymous

love

I have those dreams every night

and when I wake

I wonder how to

keep you in love with me

while we’re both

pumping salt water

from our lungs

nozzles down our throats