Descent

I rake my hands down the hill clumps of wet grass cling to the webs between my claws. Stomach burning on mud leaf, and clover. I inch toward the gold rectangle below my head—suck world into my lungs, expel it onto dewy ground slide my breasts over the slimy, dark curds. Downward, I drive. Until muddied soles wave at me from the porch spine flush with damp grey wood— —roped in arms she recollects the shock that surged through her bones from the glow of my name on her forehead. She whispers flecks of wet into my neck, lips trembling slow through her heaves, Never did I think I’d hear from you again. Our backs grinding on the grains of her dark suede couch— —the cold green blades sear the valley of bone and blood in my hip. Dots on her dress bloom into stems and petals. Her name rips against my throat— —chunks of blood shoot out the side of my mouth feet wobbling backward as sunlight punches through the windows and burns a glow on his face. I shiver behind the ray arms tight, flat against my hips. Veins press against his neck like snakes along a wall as he moans her location— —