please you

how can i morph and stretch

and contort to please you

my bones lay down in surrender

porous, malleable open

tunnels of salt and sand

ivory castles built for the pleasure of this performance

re-built with the freckled bunting they call skin

willing to shapeshift into

your girl or woman

should i be that for you

i wear this new shape in

flesh and blood and splintered bone

my skin stitches her new dress

i watch you stand at the entrance of this parable

you describe as a breathing artefact

flip through the hangers

left to discard, right to use

i feel you pause

you’ll take it

the flesh that knits togther

the chasm between truth and portrayal

but for how long

for how long will you want it

does this new body appear as diamond truth today

fitting like leather on a bull

stretched or shrunk tomorrow

how long will i need to be worn

before the stitching pops under the pressure of expansion

birthing the memories of an un-lived future

i’ll stand still in a pool of ink

that begs for no audience like its crimson cousin

slow, sticky, unusual

snaking into its own shape on the floor without command

it lives on

and i can’t dress this wound

making her a pretty display of pain—as if it were the plan all along

without the onyx blood that held it all together

i exist as the space you paid to avoid

the dust of the earth

the undertow of the wave

the places you need brave to face

tip your toes

bend your hips further over the plastic that covers the bed

keeping home safe from the empty space pf me that you used to

call love