I used to sew
along the edge of my body
– to interrupt
the Mare unraveling
my stitched skin.
I found her on
my chest, riding against
the bedroom skyline
while her fingers severed
the raw edge of my body.
A ménage à trois at
midnight with spirits
and secrets. She ladled
my past
lives from beneath
the quilted skin
of ruby strings. Swallowing
each whole,
she licked my skin
clean.