If You Peeled My Skin Off I’d Be Smiling

by Chelsey Flood

I haven’t been
dreaming recently
I tell you
I miss my dreams.
You look at
me,
shiny eyed.
Perhaps you need to move on with your
life?
Perhaps you’re standing still?
I press my lips
together
like I’m thinking it over
but what I’m thinking is
Fuck you.
You look
subdued
you tell me
and stroke me on the arm.
I turn away,
think
about the skeletons
underneath our skin
pouring vodka
into
mouths that never stop grinning.
Black hole eyes.
If you peeled my
skin off
I’d be smiling,
I say
and you laugh.
Later you tell me
about a girl
with an imaginary phone
who visited your
aquarium.
She talked to the England manager
while you showed
her
that an octopus is as clever as a dog.
Your eyes shine
as
you tell me
and I remember
You’re not so bad.
How could you
be?
You’ve got a bruise
from an octopus
on your wrist.
Before you go
your
skeleton holds onto mine
and you tell me
All I wanted was a
cuddle.
There are gaps
where our bones don’t meet
and it’s cold
but we’re both
grinning
and we don’t know how to stop.

 

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