melting random access memory
i am on my way
to have the saddest, almost sex
on a sex therapist’s couch
in a swamp apartment
with a boy too poor to afford new dress shoes
he sleeps on the kitchen floor & dreams of marrying me
gifts me a promise ring made of the clipped binding of a spiral notebook
i held his live haggis
asking if it felt good
i was a fat girl
with a new wig
& a taste for misconduct
i wanted him to slurp me down like a plump, meaty insect
burst in his mouth
but i am no vixen witch, just wanted to be wanted
in the end, his body transforms itself into infinite, humming leeches
hovering over me, asking why do you love me?