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v u l v a l i c i o u s a love poem i want to burn them to the ground with you. let you set the fire and laugh as i tear whole fistfulls of their organs out with my bare hands. bloody boys. not that they all are, but it feels that way. how they talk and posture, the oily sound of their voices ringing tinny through television sets in bars. it sticks to you and it sticks in you. this is why they have to burn. because their faces have eyes, the piggy kind that look like you might be their next meal. you tell me you've got a knife, that you're ready. ready to stick them back. it's my turn to laugh now, with you. in the fire we started. the world crackling in our ears so loud we can't hear them talking anymore. but oh darling, you know this isn't what we do. not now and not then and not in some future time. even in fiction that's not how we fight (unless it is, sometimes). our rage is like water, so close to enveloping the earth. pulled and fed by the light of the moon. cold. unswayed by empty promises. we burn nothing. that's how this works. instead we drown them in waves. we take them down slowly, feet covered then knees, until they are wading through us in a blind panic for land. we are riptides, underwater deep sea currents. we made them, make them every day. can unmake them just the same. and as we fill their throats to stop the sound of their too loud breath, as we wash out their piggy eyes til they cry and run clear, we take the world with us. we make it anew. there's so much life down here. we will use their bones to build it. |