See, she says,
my liquid pool eyes belong to you
to him my shame
the waterfall of my hair, the swamps of my skin
the ponds of my sweat, the spring of my belly
the river of my voice, the storm of my breath
to you they all go.
he likes my shame.
it never rests
the little worm inside
it eats my heat and weaves sorrow threads
to wrap my soul in.
more than a coccoon
it feels like a shroud.
Oh, leave the little light on for me
and turn off the sun
for it burns my pain and it hurts my teeth
and I have nothing to bite with
and nothing to cry for