pluck glamour, fucking the mouth, all gravel glass shard stutter stammer.

[aseverednerve]

to grab at, grasp an arms two floors below of and sweet syrup
thick, youre tricking yourself into putting someones cock in your mouth
with a birthday party next door, swirling hell
a remote memory of, so far off plucked a rum guitar a motherfuck
a slant of sunset across a leaning mirror buttered with nicotine stains damp
youre trying to get cocaine into a straw and into your body
while your husband tries to worm his fat fingers into your pussy
yeah, i remember that story your face a smudged ash reflection
i dreamed of panes of glass splintering and you poured wine crying
pissing a warm shard of it at three in the morning, candles all around
as far as i can recall is had a severe stutter until the age of six
beaten across the knuckles and out of me by seven by nuns
and watching your reflection in the mirror i think of their rulers
swatting, telling a story about jesus about forgiveness about sin and hurting
into the present with you trying to get me to sit next to you on your bed
i remember your black eye turning green on christmas eve
with a party next door hushing itself out around dawn, licking pinched fingers into a wick
and im crossing the river on a train bridge an hour later, lighting a cigarette.