Collapsible Mesh

I swing on the scratches–

red twigs splintering your back.

 

Two erasure poems

scar your chest.

 

You sweat glittery, uneven tattoos

mosh-pitting your thighs.

 

Your eyes, a car door slam

during traffic, hitchhiking off road.

 

When we kiss, I taste a dungeon

of scars–  handcuffed and bleeding

 

a baptismal cut-up.

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