people say

"waves

remember,

it comes in waves"



but no one

ever talks about

the whirlpool

death trap

in the center

of the ocean

where i'll let

just about

anyone

eat me alive

chewing through

my stomach



because

this hunger

won't stop

talking to me

about

someone else's skin

that i'm always

amazed at how

smooth it slides

against my chest.

that i never knew

a mouth

could taste so

good

especially

when my tongue

laps at the

cool tincture

of cigarettes.



but mostly

it's the death

and resurrection

that smolders

in quick shallow

breaths

and in the corners

of a skewed spine