Shame—the obese lover, leaves crumbs in the sheets, her fingers goo’d from honey drizzled inside each muffin cran—where she spreads her self, munching. Then insists I buy sunglasses for my face.
Shame—the grease patty, woke hungry again, her stomach puddled out she says, “What a pretty sidewalk,” all speckled with shattered suncaughts. “Isn't the ground the most beautiful thing you ever saw?” She loads the question down. “Welcome, welcome to your downward eyes,” she continues, “Keep’em covered. Keep those wets raybanned. When folks tiptoe up—their calves clenched along the brick, I’ll throw my invisible, cloak it over so they won’t know
we’re here. Keep the dogs away. Those panting, hands-on dogs. I’ll crack warm yolk. I’ll fill each seam behind the fridge, creep beneath eyeboards—inside the jaw, where I folded myself in. –My white blended into each pore’s yolk, each yeast pocket –milked. In a day’s work scrambled and creamed please pass the salt I own this skillet. Don’t need no oil. I’ve caked on years no brillo. Your eyes on flame burned. Blood in your face drowned Moses, don’t laugh. In hot light, my feisty burrowed in wets, plunger-lipped each place you open/you slurped noodles . I squirm hatched in your bag—my little, little burlap."