you took the worms right out of my mouth and
closed your fist around them: a sentencing.
the air feels like writing with your left hand
you heap dirt on my tongue until i’m
choking around your fingers
my limbs are heavy from sleep, covered in soot
blood and mud cake inside your chest: an offering
alive and warm and pulsing under my touch
i open my eyes against the sun i open a new can of worms
i dig into soil until i can’t feel my arms
years later i’m still scraping you out from under my fingernails.

 

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Charlie Skodras is definitely not thirteen lizards in a trench coat. She lives in Brighton with her gecko Tesla and she has skin. It’s human skin. Really. Find her at @binarycodings on twitter.