You flay its skin.
You roll the pit in your mouth.
You swat the swarm.
Your blood and calamine stain
your clothes, your collarbone.
You smell of smoke.
Your scar
your chest
your eyebrows sweat.
You roll the bottle, wet
your brow.
You grasp at sparks.
You stake them, burning, in the grass.
You drink from my glass.
You say: This isn’t mine.
You laugh.

Jen Mediano is a writer and digital content strategist. She lives in Virginia.

featured image via Pxhere.

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