by Jessica Poli
Balsa hands and
red sugar on hot fingers;
you used to have a hold on me.
We loved caffeine and
made love under black lights.
Teeth glowing as they crashed together.
Lint behind the washer
tends to settle on my lips. Remember,
you used to brush it away. Used to call me things.
I’ve been a lot of things -
sea monsters and bridesmaids.
You said them all while you traced my thighs.
Let me melt, I always said.
You fed me apples in the morning;
you told me not to cry and fed me apples.