in defense of my yankee boyfriend
i want nothing
more than randomized curvature
from yours then his then yours again
feign my line of questioning to drain
chromosomal sacks of malcontent from every whatever
i spit to flame.
from the underbelly i settle hard
swallows gauzed in sweat or other. i carve myself anew
& instinctively age five years to spite myself:
how liberals claim territory
with partially digested rage. in our crustacean romance
i let it happen.