Star Crossings

originally appeared in MiPoesias


Out of the six cartoons on your wall,

one is in color.  My nails crack

like thawing ice.  You don’t


want to swim in them.

The woman on your couch

is lazy and has shoes


stuffed with money.

If she had the same eyes

as her dog, she would


be beautiful.  I come back

from kickboxing class ready to tell her

to stop breaking my spatulas,


but as soon as I speak

she falls narcoleptically asleep

with her feet in paraffin wax.


If you weren’t a somnamblophile,

you would notice

how toned my arms are.


You think she’s a demigoddess,

but I think she’s using you

for your cotton pillows


and your pizza oven.

If you kissed

my shoulder bones,


I would let you swim

in my nail beds

eight months out of the year.


I would make all your cartoons

burst into color.