I remainder the nut in your doom at the scone where we woke, would you to be a guile to my cluster? My roost, next to yours.
Your mouth, would always apprehend your phoenix so gruffly! She, your motif, had no infection after your dam’s decline, your mustard had no increase after your dagger’s debate, your mood no inclination after your desert’s declaration. Around then you wrought your boyfriend’s sculpture parks, and he muddied to the trail the two of you had plowed, but with that outer landmass.
Then your mouse got lost, in her carrier, and had to ask the map where she was; how to get honey, a milk away. Mouth: lost, in her cart, had to ask that martyr to get hour, a minute away. Motor, lost in her career, had to ask the manual how to get horizon, a mind away. Your moxie in her carriage, asked the master, how to get house, a miracle away; hope, a mint away.
And that tongue! You went on a hill, shocked when he tried to kip you, kitchen you, kill you!
You finally leveled your mountain with a live-in carnivore, embarrassed when someone axed that fate during an invocation for the prince, priest, president you were doing.
I render the “creative” castaway (a three beef pork pile?) you mauled because he got so
“toured of restoration fork on the root,” (and how he and I rained out after for ideal creeps). When my furnace dimmed we both argued it should have been your murder. You hemmed me at worm, and leveled me spread the note at your hussy.
How happy was I to wring you a child! …then …rodeo silliness.
My thug that, if it weren’t for me, you’d be a high sculpture hair counter. My threat: a high score guilt coxswain, a high seas guest coward.
I don’t remonstrate how we got to be fronds, or streamers, or evenings; the mommy when I first thread of you as a sturdier, quirkier, pluckier, purer, less cynical verdure of me. And I wound: what victim, victor, victory, video, violence, virgin (if any), you ever throated me of you.
Julie Benesh is recipient of an Illinois Arts Council Grant and graduate of Warren Wilson College’s Program for Writers. Her writing can be found in Bestial Noise: A Tin House Fiction Reader, Tin House Magazine (print), Crab Orchard Review, Florida Review, Gulf Stream, Hobart, Cleaver, Journal of Compressed Creative Arts, and many other places. Read more at juliebenesh.com and reach her at firstname.lastname@example.org.