His nose is bustled in my neck.
Hazy. Bigots always saying sorry,
While they’re standing over the body.
Somehow, somebody’s face is missing.
Tantra chain lock collars, unmasked dogs.
I can picture the minutes, feel the minutes,
Before his body hits the cement.
Billboards make the brainwaves sway.
Breathing out like a contaminated street vent.
Knock me to the ground, watch and wait,
Until the slime comes out. Abort the only flesh left.
I spy head against brickwork.
His smells conquered. Hands limp, freezing over.
Snot slides down into my mouth. You’re not mine now.