Maria Callas's Tapeworm

​(for Dan Hoyt)
 
She loves 
the way he comes
in the sweet tang
of blood & raw flesh, 
how he coils inside her,
the way he never says
Enough.
 
She feels him glide
down her throat, 
sanguine & slick as
pleasure.
He kisses her belly-deep, 
swallows her sins,
tucks in her waist
like a hard-boned corset, 
polishes her eyes
with fever. 
He tightens a fist 
inside her 
like a miscarried child. 
 
He is the ravenous
secret she keeps, 
the one who chisels her 
skin closer to bone &
buffs it to a pregnant
glow…
though she knows
that light is false as
the moon’s,
though she knows
some day he will 
waste her
with his desire.
Some day
he will swallow her
whole.