burglary on hayward--12/7

Burglary on Hayward

So you've made me the ashy divorcee.
Cleopatra applying snakes like lip liner
in the gold hand mirror.
You brought with you ten years
and chisled them in as I slept with your pick axe tongue.
Ever the vampire, you sucked out the ink from my fingertips.
Ever the marauder, you took every bag of gold
that I'd hidden underneath the floorboards
and in safes beneath portraits of my ancestors.

You bit every coin and turned them to moonshine
that you would tip down the throat of every girl thereafter.
Cassanova in your lion mask
crunching on candy hearts
in the drive thru, flirting with the waitress
knowing better than God that you'll fuck her the next day.

So you've made me a chain smoker, have you?
(Is that the reason why my throat burns when I think of you?)
You've m ade me a wriggling fish
flip-flopping and gasping in the sunlight.
Now I crunch ice in my teeth and pass out feet first
but only because I've been persuaded
then left hitchhiking my way back.