Cherish
He puts his mouth on me even if
it means ruin. He says we can't
do it in his house or bed, his wife
will know, then shoves my hand
inside his pants. We are more
than a mind fuck, a one-off
mistake. He says you make me
want to put a bullet through
my skull, why don't you take me
to the nearest service station
selling ammo at this hour, can’t
leave you so better for us to
go together. Is he merely being
dramatic when a vodka flask
pokes out of that vintage jacket
his father finally passed on
to him while he jams my thumb
into the corner of his mouth,
rubbing my fleshy pad over
his teeth as he starts sucking
without asking. Some people
get a tattoo on impulse to show
the world they mean it, how love is
worth the pain, people who know
nothing about being taken apart
by this: how I only want his mouth
to finish off what we started—
