In slaughterhouse.
In vastness.

I wrote you on Sunday.
A taming injection.

Too hot.
Too hot the water.

Red forms of letters.
We showed.

Each other our insides.
Red and gristle.

I was glamorous then.
When I red-lined my eyes.

I would have given.
To fuck cross-legged.

Tongue stuck.
In garbage disposal.

I was wicked in letters.
Nymphomaniac crass.

Quick as the rest.
I would sell my soul.

For real the bodies.
Pull out the nails.

Your flesh.
I would be unending.

Your flesh.
Make me whole.

In slaughterhouse.
Slaughterhouse.

Brand on my forehead.
Sword in my left side.