One thumb and the blood breaks loose. Lacy flesh
in foundational wounds and bugs I would
rather bite than kill. Half-naked naked
amphitheater, or open invite.
Chocolate-soaked back or a rash. Both. Eye
-line lipstick pays big to go home under
the concrete absolution. Cunt swamp stain
immortalized in a lizard tail wag,
separate bikini of organs. Drip
of jealousy and not enough to sun

-spot the semicircle. Communicate
just above the head, below the neck. Sweat
out the toxic feathering and turn to
peck wood. Splits of oil-fire ruin,
save my introvert, way back where I end.
Color me plum-thrilled and halt construction
in the garden. Seance overflow, take
it back. Curse. Mouth open. I teach a moth
how to spell and kill itself in a long
-form poem. Break to bend and estimate

constraint. Get in my space, leave it swollen,
at clover how a turtle likes to chew.
Steer the model aircraft near the magic
eight. The pocket full of puffer fishes
get away with it, what is stopping me?
Cash out to lure my trouble to the cut
and stuff it in the trunk. Hummingbird rare
-grilled, invincible in the speed-round. Come
lap up the bleeding without sewing me
shut. Watch the bats circle, sink into dirt.

Haven Capone (any pronouns) is a maximalist, and can be found on Instagram @iwishiwasamarble.