Maybe
it doesn’t start out that way,
pain
with salt, stiff knots in the muscle
of
hips, an electric inspection for a berth
it
can loiter in to burn a name for itself.
Consider:
bark, when stripped, is an idle
dog
in the slim shade of a roof at one in the afternoon.
The
throb is in the meat, the twitch
when
the hand gets magnet close, enough
to
suck it down or push it completely
away. Both with a growl. Both with teeth.
Shit
if you want the pain, get the hell out.
If
you don’t, touch the dog. She’s not
asleep.
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