Spotlight: my sister-wife
chews on the strange stillness of his quiet unravel. she knows
the undoing—like thread—will be slow & always.
same as when he first moved inside of me—i remember. the both of us
wide open, one exhale after the other scrawled between my legs.
the ground sweats against my foot, familiar with the work.
all things come to & from but knowing this will not keep me
from digging into his brother. i too have learned to chew. suck in salt. crack
my jaw. open & spit out the shell. nothing is safe. nothing is sacred.
i wonder where the water went. lay my palm against my bone.
berate the mangled hair. paddle along my heavier thighs. whine
with my hips rusted over & unattended to. weep for where
the dents of his teeth were. faint lesions on the cuff of my ashy legs.
out of necessity. each night turns out like this. out of necessity.