Northern_Lights_2017

13 Cement Water Sin Erin Noehre Some cackling clawing inside of me Refuses to be frugal with my flesh. I want to shave off my skin for pennies And sew my heart on the length of my chest. Measure Each length and inch Of my lace lacking— Pleasure crafting— Ever tripping over the hem— Sin. Because the truth is If your sturdy stone Ever eroded Into flecks of a new grey (A whole new class of ash), I would inhale you Through both nostrils As the new channel for my addiction, Which I tried To leave on the kitchen table Of a life I no longer live. Yet I will move in all your forms. The touching, tugging, Toddler. And the mourning, Mixing Man, That I’ve witnessed you Perform as. Covering up what you think I won’t understand. But I tense when your heat Meets my liquid And it always boils down to The I love you I picked from sewed-in lips. A placeholder for true hate. Which overcrowded The furniture of me I shoved in. Like a tacky couch In chateau de begin again.