sick and poke

hey do you want to come over?
we could sit on my bedroom floor
you could bring your cavetown album
and i could do stick and poke.
we could sit on the floor or the bed with our legs bent
and we could face each other head-on.
together we could
connect
like puzzle pieces.
we could fit our odd pieces
together
and be new and still unique.

hey do you want to come over?
i could hold your wrist
and poke holes in you.
i could talk too much
and you would know it's because i'm nervous
and you could make fun of me because i'm not the one being
branded.
and i wouldn't tell you that i'm nervous because
you're close and your eyes are blue and your hair has fallen in your
eyelashes and you don't seem to notice it and your collar is twisted again
and you're smiling and i'm poking a needle in your skin
and i wouldn't tell you that i'm nervous because you're not.

hey do you want to come over?
i could joke about stealing some alcohol
so you would laugh and know
but not say it
that i'm afraid of alcohol.
i could press my elbows between my ribs
and jam by tongue between my teeth
and let you poke the needle into me first
so you know you don't have to be scared.
to prove i'm real.

hey do you want to come over?
you could lean forward when you talk
and you could laugh so hard i throw up
and you could grasp my hand when i poke you
and i could not kiss you.
you could show me something you love
and i could show you a mirror.
you could make me keep going and keep going and not stop
and i could not wipe away your tears with my lips
and not trace your vertebrae and fingers and lips and eyebrows.

you could come over
do you want to?
and we could pretend and lie and be sick all night
and you would go home and i would
wonder.

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