THE MUTINY

Whether or not
He puts the stones
Down my gullet.

You weren't tied to
That chair. Nor dreamed
In it. Not yet.

Delicate as
The buttons on
My sister's red

Sweater. It's that
time of year. Space
Boy space girl space

Girl space. You know.
Add another
Girl. Because I

Dreamed it I've had
To own it once
Again. The woods

For instance. Eyes,
Oh no. The day
Gets sick to its

Stomach. We aren't
That far apart.
We are. And in

The bed? Don't laugh,
Goddamn it, we're
Live, not crying . . .