When you spit on my cunt it is like you’ve dug your teeth in
Granny Smith, the         spray            of nectar… Your tongue

   is an inchworm. This                   body,
   humming at your touch like rubber
   can be peeled.        I think you know
   that now, where the               center
                                                  hides…

…        There are no flowers
here. This                 body is
a wasps’ nest. As it closes

in you press your palms to the outside of my womb and
   from the inside rise millions of pricks, like bread to
             heat, or grass to stormclouds. You come

back red and gasping.

There is honey here.
I think you know that, too…