BDSM by Jarrett Moseley I want to feel nothing. My head is a vase. Dig the sinew out of my cheek, tie it like rope round my wrists. Tongues curling into pillows are sad. Little pink prisoners, they never escape. When you called me daddy your pupils slimmed with desire: stretched putty. Everyone’s agreed on dying but not yet. Coffins, craters, nail marks, silence. Chasing hurt, not damage. A room full of wedding veils surprises as I crawl through it. A burning house, as we walk inside slow as we can. On the sidewalk leading up I confused smashed eggfruit for kumquat. In bed, I confused too plumb for to come. To help you come, I pretended everything was normal. I kissed your ribcage like you’d never emptied mine. The past was undone like morning shadows. If I could do this right, I thought, everything else might shed away. Flat and dry were my hands as I spanked you. You loved me you said between gasps. You said you wanted to be good.
With each Poem of the Month selection, we include a contributor’s note and an editor’s note.
"I kissed your ribcage
like you’d never emptied mine. " I love all of this. But especially this sentence is speaking to me this morning