get off and turn
him gold,
banana peel your clothes
and throw them
in the trash,
till you’re naked

and he’s staring at
the rash that
has settled into your skin
like a disease,

cancer-ed cells
backfiring and breaking
capillaries, spilling
blood beneath surface,

your eyes are red
you’re
maybe crying

you feel like Noah in the Arc,
with the way you
spend your time watching
the animals go by
in pairs of two
like peas in a pod
and the number of loops

when you tie your shoes,
and you were
a string and he
was a part
of the interconnecting
strands, he guided
your hands and you

tied yourself down
to a cage in the
zoo just string me
& string you