The Horse, The Whites of The Eyes

We shot up that night with our feet swinging over the crease of a brook
You flashed a smile
That slit a wound into the meadow of night
I remember you asked me if I'd ever done this before
With the same feverish voice
Eager to corrupt anything good left in me
I said of course
But what is goodness worth
To a girl born with thorns in her side
I lost my softness years ago
My skin hardened in my mother's denial

Boldly I seized
The egg-shaped pod flickering between your fingers dripping milky sap
The whites of my mother's eyes reflected
In the silver spoon turning sap to sticky brown bubbles
The sweet tar
Unhinged seductive syllables into the air
And crackled beneath the flame blooming in your hand
Like a bouquet of gold fireworks
My veins bloated blue with syrup
Ears filled with cotton dipped in hot wax
I remember when the horse
First touched my body in the dark
I swear I felt it grow in me
Stretching new dimensions in my chest

And I finally knew religion
And I felt just like Jesus' son
Lou Reed's heroin song lodged between my gritting teeth
I was invincible again
My eyes two pearls rolling backwards into my head
My fingernails digging into the earth
Then into your arm
Mining for diamonds
Or anything cut refined or beautiful I can vulgarize

The way you turned away from me and gave me room
To unravel novels of madness from slackened maw
Full of ink
Reminded me of my mother
Looking away as she always did whenever I made up stories
Of shadowy figures taking handfuls of girlhood
Leaving me
As a damp spot soaked in sheets
She washed
Over and over again.