projectionist

you were the projectionist 

film reels rattle-snaking
across the bedroom floor

hissing & biting my ankles--

i sat at my desk that
night & write 

'i love you'
on the top of 
every note-book paper page

as if i could make sense of it

next etching the
words into my forearm
with red ball point pen--

lamp light

enchanting us into
shadow puppets

you kissed the shadows 
out from inside me--

where my ribs clutch
bloody & warm

white sheet thumb-tac-ed
to my back--

facing the wall-- 
nose touching 
the base of your neck--

puncture wounds trickling
rain onto the carpet--

for you i wanted to 
be still 

to make a body worthy 
of holding pictures--

to watch movies on 

you sitting there 
in your boxers--

eating calamari
off your fingers--

our ceiling shaking 
with the earthquakes
of our fathers--

their work-boot feet--
their microwave thunder--

we have to hurry-- 
spit  scenery-- 

clatter of the reel 
as it flickered
across me--

you told me not to turn around--

that your weren't finished
viewing 

& the movie was silent 
but i could feel it was
about us--

about bunk beds collapsing

about you daring me
to catch the snake
as it slipped away 
& into your closet--

teeth star-glinting--

about you noticing the 
scales of my knuckles--

me lying & telling you 
that i wasn't reptilian--

the imagery of us 
tattooing itself--

slide by slide--

when i asked you to stop
you said this was 
our punishment

for trying to escape into 
another person's body--

that we were going
to watch it again & again--

that we were going to watch
it until the shadows 
came back underneath 
our skin--

until the ball point pen washed
out of my forearms--

but the reel turned into
a snake--

bit your neck--

& the door to the basement 
was made of only rib cages
interlocked--

my memory of
us still hums there--

a white sheet crumpled on
the floor--

your projector

kneeling-- 

pouring history from
her burnt lips