the couch
is a serious of
cigarette burns
next to
all the places
she convulsed
in the throes of
something
adjacent
to love
my hot breath
blowing through
the valleys of
her disconnect
between
fiction
and
the den of sin
we had created
under the
strict guise of
genuine affection
self infliction
an addiction
i had been
inside
of her
in every way
but the one that

mattered
the one where
i squirm my way
into her
pristine
apple shaped
heart
the early worm
gets to watch
the slow demise of
his brethren
in the name of
affection
misconstrued intention
infection
before rejection
the only thing
worse
than biting an apple
and
seeing a worm
is
biting into one
and
seeing half