"Revising Poems with an Ex-Boyfriend" by Cat Dixon
You admit perhaps tinkering
with your lines, cutting aloof
excess, removing the mask
may be necessary. Plunge
beneath Cheyenne County's
soil, lather your burned shoulders
with gooey aloe vera,
uncoil the gray cord that bound
my wrists above my head, smash
your old fat laptop against
the headboard, and tell me, strong
grunting man, that words you sent
are like orgasms, fleeting.