Sucker Punch


I’m a sucker for lust like a sickness in itself
to lick the clavicle off of your chest,
tongues impaling and pretentious with
your level of distorted perversion and psychosis,

I envy all the atoms that get to live inside you,
creatures crawling around undeserving and
dictating the way in which you eat bread and
drink Merlot with sour grape cusps,

Let us fight to the death
the sheets        the afghan
a kneecap in the nightstand

You’re a terrible person with enlightened
bedside manner and golden boy banter
contagious and coloring outside the lines
as I hit you with a kiss, a sucker punch
to the jaw with a mouth that’s angry
at you for the fact you dare to exist
in a six-figure finger fuck for every
year of your contaminated birth.