You say you love me like
a lion loves his Africa sky.
You say your pretty words,
I know what they buy.
You lay your words around my neck
like emeralds. Hang dazzlers
from my ears. When you left
I scooped up your words
in a shopping bag dumped
them on the pawnshop
counter. The man say your words
ain't worth a dime. Not worth,
he said, the usual word for
fundament. Keep your words.
The day I called you said you
sliced your palm to the
bone, drooled blood
in your kitchen sink
stained your marble bath.
Bleed dry. See how it feels.
You say I am turquoise and gold,
a bird of paradise in snow.
You say my breath blows maroon
through your mind. You
say I am a brass band in
a little tin town. You
say, you say.
I say
show me
what good
your words do
you now. I'm gone.
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