Glass

I am the ash
in your bowl
maxed out and cashed
with hair that
curls and cracks

Grey grey grey
and black molten
and smelling on your breath
like wine and rotten

"Darling hold your thumb here"
pull it off
hold your light
singe my body

blazing like a cherry
hold my burning belly
and chafe it with laughing

too late now
my volume would be lost on you
my temper untethered
in one hawk swoop
would find its prey
in mirth
and not fit
to eat

Hit
hit
hit
hit me.