When he shows up at my door –
face smeared into a devilish grin,
one hand gripping a wine bottle,
the other hand pushing his way inside –
his spirit fills the room like incense
and I take him into my nostrils.
When it gets dark, he puts his hands
around my neck and kisses me
until I shrivel on his acidic lips.
He takes me down into the bed,
where his restless hands melt
and reshape me like a skilled potter,
and where he advances inside me
like a tumor until I whisper his name
into the empty corners of the room.
Matthew J. Andrews is a private investigator and writer whose poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Orange Blossom Review, Funicular Magazine, and EcoTheo Review. His debut chapbook, I Close My Eyes, and I Almost Remember, is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. He can be contacted at matthewjandrews.com.