Barby

We spend an afternoon
sticking spears
in each other’s sides-
even as we kiss
our mind’s are on it-
the next razor nick
that tears a tiny fold
of skin from the other.
As we move from
room to room,
our trail is marked
by bloodied hearts
each the size of a
child’s thumbnail-
the dog sniffs them,
wrinkles her nose
in faint disgust.
We kiss some
more pain out,
every piece of us
trying to force venom
down throats.

On the bus I fight
back your tears,
draw sad faces in the
window mist.
You don’t know
if I care.