Baby Boy By A.K.Abbruzzi

Beneath the drain
drawing lines
from the fleshy groove
of my falling arm
a spider spies
hot lunch box
bare leg bristle
baby boy whine

And I am caught
like a bunny in the briar
pelt torn
By little pincers
little mouths
suckling, suckling
dry ducts
gills snared
white belly open
milk for mugwumps
breasts beaten blue
by you

through you
through you
my blood
my blood
lines the sky

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