So I took the E-string, the sixth and not the first-
And I tied it around my forearm nine times
And tucked it under itself
And let it cut through the circulation.
rumbling red ripping through compressed veins
sitting soaked and undeniably attentive.
On november nights
dark as frost
dessicated last leaves flapping steadfastly on the edges of barren branches
whipping frozen stars
I can still feel the bleacher slats
meat table cold
through the scratch
of the polyester hitched band uniform.
your cheek pressed against mine
cold flash
bloodhot below
And me turning my lips to kiss edge of your lips while you brushed me away.
Lush breath saturating
The quick divide.
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