Thomas Gillaspy   © 2014 All Rights Reserved

Under the Lines

You shiver up the stones of my spine
dissolve in the pool of my mind as you leap.
I snort the liquid in lines let leak
my fantasy of how we might bind.

You thrum a pace between rib folds
you are my knife, you slide inside,
carve under my breasts where instincts lie
in sheets of marrow bowed in my bones.

You swell in the water, in desire thrash,
flay the roots of my tender nerves,
flood and flush through cornered curves
shatter the walls of water and flesh

unroll unfold the craves stoked
raw flints rub on magnetic pyres
a consuming burn, the coming fire
then branded fate choking in smoke.

I watch the wisps until you are gone,
unclench the pulse from my skinned palm.
I dangle the lines where my future told

my darling one, you breathe alone.

Melissa Gordon
Copyright © 2014  

Melissa Gordon is currently an MFA student at Western Connecticut State University where she is the editor of Poor Yorick, the programís online literary journal. She also works at Yale University on substance use research, and she is a contributing author on several articles in the American Journal of Psychiatry.

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