Meatball Noose

Corked off glue, oral mucosa clamped, oyster bald razor, thumb running along twine binding the package, a conductor testing violin tension. Hairy balls of fire, a jackdaws caw, drawing her in with dirty sticky wet joy. Creaks on bed springs, open windows, neighbors staring, a drumbeat counting down to rupture. The squeezebox gripped tight, seething under bare back muds. Breath, a bird in a cage, jabbing at the bars of her ribs. Burnt-out fluorescent light, firefly flash caught behind bone. Hands unwrap with surgeon’s grace, flesh revealed: pink, marbled, mutinous. The cuts: rare, exotic jewels radiating a savory sheen. A finger tests the muscle, a pianist poised over ruin. And then: a grunt, “the trick,” a gesture, sleight masking ripened fruit. And my snake, swollen, pounding, thick and huge, slithers through her smooth underbrush. The Calvary arrives, a swarm of bees in spurred leather. Engines rev, Bouffants tumble, spiderweb eyeliner, one blink from collapse. Ten-gallon hats deflate, soft as old balloons left out in the sun. Starlings chime down an alleyway.