I’ve been eating the skin off my hands
for as long as I can remember;
all-purpose tools, obedient pets,
hot and shining when I unwrap them
I dip my tongue into the new pink
pool of skin my teeth left behind, smooth,
fresh; fingerprint broken, I could be
unknowable, though I know better
than ever now the world flows through this
new window of my body; white waves
rise where the skin courses to grow back
thicker, strong as a heavy oak door
But my front teeth swing it open
and I swallow it off its hinges.
You can stop looking at me
like I’m a freak. Imagine
your body uncontained: its paper
torn, a dahlia blooms on each wrist
your heat pouring out into the air
On one hand, the protection is nice:
Picturesque; you press your soft girl’s hand
to your girlfriend’s neck and make her a sky
over the ridges of fingertips.
But on the other, a red sea gleaming
palm eats your lover whole, and dissolves you too;
Imagine the whole girl turned inside out
from fingertip to stomach, expanding.
