talking to city boys on the phone.

freewrite. written in seven minutes.
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we do breathing exercises over the phone
because you like to
punch people in the mouth.

i know,
fighting is easier
than dancing
or making love.

when i'm alone
i think of suckling on
your fractured knuckles.

just close your eyes and imagine a meadow
breathe in deep
pushing out your stomach
i hear you hesitate on the other side
of the darkness.

we should take a train out of the city
i want to name you after tall trees
compare your strength to a thick bark middle
even though the colour green just reminds
you of a two day old bruise climbing up
the side of your body like moss.
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