Jessy Randall & Ken Cenicola
TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD I HAVE TO BITE YOU
I paid for the taxi and you melted into my lap. It hurt to get up so you stayed
and stayed. To suck your blood I had to bite you. If I could have gotten it
some other way I would have. All you wanted was your own apartment but you
fucked like an endangered species. My temper extended to the tires and the
windshield. We didn't have to ask anyone if we could sleep over. Day after day,
you waited for me to mess up. We were born at the same time, and mostly had the
same childhood, but sometimes you were completely foreign to me, and I was
trying to emigrate to your body. You told me the stupidest one you ever kissed
had the most delicious mouth. I damaged your edges to make you fit. You were
easy like Sunday morning and I was the bad show that came on after the good show.
When we finally said goodbye we wished we'd done it sooner. Now it takes great
talent to be that ugly but at the time it came natural. I avoided coming home
after school and you took me to your house instead. Under a blanket with you in
a bliss of dorky hand-holding, always trying to get back to that. Then a
combination of cruelty and attention leading to semi-sick excitement. I was
always last on your list. That song makes me think of you, so I'm glad they
don't play it on the radio any more.
Jessy Randall's most recent collection is Injecting Dreams into Cows (Red Hen, 2012). Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Painted Bride Quarterly, Rattle, Stirring, and Wicked Alice.
Jessy Randall and Ken Cenicola have had collaborative poems published in Press 1 and Robot Melon.