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K a t i e   L o n g o f o n o


Make War


I want the bruise, I probe 

the border between milk 

and blue in tender lines. 

Shine me down to a bitter 

fist, tooth and bone, rattling 

and reaching for lip. 

Bite-marks blossom, 

a rash like skin smudged 

across asphalt. Rough me 

around, sweat me out, 

leave me scrapes to remember 

you by. Abrade and unbraid 

me, tug at my hair, make war 

with my body. Light one last 

cigarette, smash the embers 

on my breast. Kiss the cooling 

ring, bleeding pink. Put me out. 


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