|Arsenic Lobster poetry journal||
|Failure Means a Drowning Death
Kelly Lorraine Andrews
First spasms, stomach full up
and a relaxed throat where water
can flow freely, spill over a lip,
a metal milk can. The audience
plugs their noses, cheeks puffed
out and watch the clock’s little hand
descend to 6 then 8 then unbelief
someone could fold themselves
restrained and still emerge
stiff legged with wrinkled skin.
I curl your thumb and fingers
to shape the letter C, place it
just under my chin. Hold here
until my chest rises up,
grip on your wrist whitening
the skin and underneath rocking
my writhing legs the sheet bunches.
Now, soft. Now loose my sound
and I will stretch this long neck back,
let you bruise me in a new way.
About Kelly Lorraine Andrews