Downstream

you hugged me with hands curled up in fists
and the weapon in your front pocket squeezing my tits
and we kissed with teeth touching, that's how it was,
and every breath exchanged another loss.
i bought a book on life in the sea
and i read it out aloud and picked out the importance for me,
which was everything dangerous, everything poisonous,
everything with teeth and claws.
so what do you think you are,
thinking about telling me what to think
and what do you think you are,
pouring your opinions in my drink?
i ride the bike down to the river side,
i spit in the water and watch you
float slowly downstream.
after the abc and the 123
your words still sound so old
while my finger's in my throat
trying to tickle out the cold.
there's a mark on my hips
where ten filthy fingertips
tried to pave the way for a filthy pair of lips.
i bought a book about life in the woods
and i read it out aloud
and i underlined the passages that would
tell me how to survive among predators as a snake
and how to never go to sleep, how to always stay awake.
so what do you think you are, thinking about telling me what to think
and what do you think you are, pouring your opinions in my drink?
i ride the bike down to the river side, i spit in the water and watch you float slowly downstream.