Remember how I used to grow into third arm to your blue chair
only to feel your touch and warmth left over from your other belle
When lights prismatic falling off my bluish skin with green gondolas
drawn on it,
my mouth and nipples, my eyes and thighs were stringing a rondalla
to my culprit

Remember, lover, what lover was I to you and her through your ascent
to wrap my skin around her talus, to tempt her with the broken scent
you took from me and bit on it on her while leaving trails of blood,
uprooted
from my love for you. My blood and mouth are now a ballad
savagely muted.

Remember how I use to sing to every cell of your blue chair
only to reconstruct the silence that dripped from us up in the air
when darkness trailing drops of dew into my tights, my mouth, and nipples
burnt on it
I used to be your lover, lover, and paint your skin with mine in circles,
Now rippled.