an eggroll encased hotdog
it’s odd
we talk
about these things
and it fazes us
for naught
-
i dreamt:
i sat
upon your bed
my pants
around my knees
your finger
touched
my healing
wound
-
i grabbed your wrist
embraced it
brought your blood
unto my lips
and engulfed
your carpal tunnels
in a canopy of love
-
and then i
pressed my wrists
against yours
and the scars
stained me
instead
and you smiled
i held your hand
and then i died
enough deaths
for the two of us