even stephens

I feel like I've lost this, this talent
to turn this situation into words
into poetry, into ways to explain
how you pull my chest bones apart
like curtains and peer inside,  
and how all you can see is you
and a bloody heart, and you,

oh how you hang
from my oesophagus,  
your hands all pulsating and my organs all swelling.
The tension between us is both unbearable and
kind hearted, you touch my arse

and I want to kill you.