love me as red as a lobster.

when you remember loving me
do you remember the time
we ate lobster?
i paced back & forth
in the small Maine kitchen--
the tile floor was full of ants--
you got
out the pot large 
enough to boil the rings
off the planets--
outside the moon drowsily   
sulked in the afternoon sky--
she forgot her wristwatch 
in the bay-- 
pulled the tides
higher & higher--
to try to raise
them tall enough to reach
her bare belly--
the lobsters
strained against purple rubber
bands-- kicked their
legs in a chorus line
from where we kept
them in their
temporary sacks of water--
you put another rubber band
around me to tie-up my
arms-- your mother watched
& told you how good
a boyfriend you were to
hold me so tight--
love knows rubber bands--
pot on the stove--
you baptized me in the water
floating with corn cob
& potato hunk--
introduced me to lobsters 
we blush red maroon--
broken blood vessels 
on our necks-- 
flushing hotter
red red red--
the kind of red of a broken
nose-- mosquito bite
in the corner of a knee--
red head of a freshly
struck match pressed tightly
to a forearm--
i feel my meat turning juicy &
white--
you'll start by teaching
me how to crack
each corner of my body--
bite me with metal--
kiss the shells--
worship the skeleton
adorn me in butter--
this is how you eat 
love red as a woman--
the lobster eyes keep staring--
boiled dark side
of the moon-- she kept
raising ocean
until the water started
to come in through the windows--
you cracked & painted
butter
until there was no more 
meat left to suck
from my clams-- my hollow
antennae once housed  
the sensation of sound--
close the windows--
close the windows--
don't let the moon
see how red you are around me--
save the pot
for when i grow my flesh back
i'd like to know what
i taste like--
dripping in butter--
tight fist of a purple
rubber band.