Beauty,
rake your claws
across my eyes,

break my knees
into right angles
and stow them
beneath a desk –

          I’d prick each finger
          in madness
          to sacrifice
          another blank page –

or leave

the chasm filled
by your empty bedside table,
bobby pins
and two pennies,
the two thoughts
I paid you for

          (One a murky dream,
          the second a recipe
          made to the tune of
          “You Are My Sunshine”
          hummed).

Temptress
Idol
Diva
Divine

I only ask
your hands
for more push.