inside becomes exposed- like a spine
in the family's weakening atlas.
Eyelids are smooth and balmy, then burning
as the windows of my room fill with
orange twirling meringues.
I wear my sleep and sweat-knowing
this potency, like a man once, I loved.
I rise to the dogs whimpering and licking
at their paws, in a garden gone completely
to blonde straw. They move slowly
and find no solace on the deck.
Man-light makes sure my skin tingles
and blushes, freckles in his inescapable
presence. He leaves his mark, convincing me.
I won't forget his ways.
He should have known how we love each other
roughly all of the time. His rule is
My Beloved Blind Spot,
My Commander, My Auburn.