Lisbeth

In the vampire movie, I’m the kid
with the gun. I feel your hands
as others feel God, close all
the shutters and collect the tire
wrenches. Oh my hunger shakes.
It's haunting the way her wrists
curl about his neck, dripping
with the most delicate of charms.
Heart-shaped and terrible. At night
I cry over your gap-toothed smile,
the windmills troubling me
as I collect hostile swans.
Your breathing making me tremble
like a small kitten. My mother
tells me I look terrible without
makeup. In high school I couldn’t
get off the couch. Too perplexed
by the tilt of red sofa pillows.
Blessedly there are no eyes
in my new apartment. All that blue
making me forget. The way she
told me to thump the vein.
Thump.
Thump.