Maybe you’re gone
But my heart is still stuck to your stiletto
Like gum
With you every night out
Looking up your dress
Watching if you weep with pleasure
Knowing what it is for you to undress
On a foreign floor
Listening to the bed springs those nights
Concealed under the table
At convivial dinners
Pushed from the talk
A nothing that abides
Sucking on to your
Pink and damp
Pulsing occasionally as stabbed
If I had any want left
I’d want the arrogant gum cut
As much as you
It stole everything
Took the saliva of my soul
Just to drink the dirt
Pull it off with your tender fingers
Or throw the stiletto
Into the night
A necessary castration.

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