Mother

your spine is a set of piano keys,
each hollow bone tinkles
and plucks
and the tune is your heart beat
and the sky is my home.

In your mouth are teeth made
of smoke
and words false as air
that wrap me up.
they wrap and twist and turn.

on the swing in the park,
boys kiss me and
taste your bitter hertitage on
my gums, their lips burn
because of you.
i pass on the disease.

have you ever really touched me?
i cant remember now
your fingers in my hair.
did you buckle my shoe
or lick my envelopes so
i wouldnt cut my tongue?
or was that someone else?
it must have been

with you
everyday, i cut my tongue.