Emily

16

Aporia II

August is a chemical burn-
a slow, satisfying burn.
It's bleach through my viens,
napalm and a match.
It's mustard gas
chuffing through my lungs
and it's hot
and it's filling.

August is sludging and slow,
dripping from my tongue...
I love the drip.

You are August.

You are the corroding
in my aorta-
festering my insides.
August, you are a parasite.

Eat me.

Take my bones and flesh,
my hair, my knees.
Take my days, August,
all thirty
and leave me to the riptide,
the pull-
leave me to you.