I split my legs to you in the style of wishbones
The world tumbling over itself in such a rush
To go anywhere meaningful somewhere full
Of rivers bright and renewed gardens back
At the place where I am from I grew to love

The feeling of playing little arsonist, a canvas
A beauty in a tower with hair so long you could
Wrap it around a fist and walk me like a dog
The thing they don’t tell you about places
You are from is that you grow to poison them

You grow like an acorn spiralling within itself
You loose all sense of rhyme and reason I tell
This all to him on my knees, mouth open to
Appease or to swallow or to take his fingers
Onto my tongue like sweetmeats to consider

To clamp between my teeth walnut-encased
Allow me to explain: The poison swelters
In the bloodstream it festers it buzzes it is
It is all you can do in the face of it is level your
Face and let his cracked nail hook into your eye