"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.