Morgan Parker


When the snow comes
you come
For a taste of your neck I would
burn my tongue
I want to look my best
crawling across nicked wood
sobbing for my people
their most desirable meats sliced
with a glass of tomatoes and ants
Sagittarius replies yes, please
in matters of the heart
doesn’t knock the hustle, never feels
she is asking too much
I would take you into the kitchen and kiss you
necks just close enough to stove burners
Now where the fuck is my letter?