After School

god decided this when he spun earth on its axis, scrawled inside a chromosome he spelt out my face, the lacking, he spelt out the uselessness of every limb eyes settle on me like flies, god intended this. you pin me. my white blonde hair that yesterday danced across your face, was held in spiralling whorls like a baby, like something breakable, is tangled in your sweating fist. [after] pick the brittle bits of me which stick in fragments on your hot tireless tongue sick to your bones with what you have done and [later] smears dregs of childish snot across my holy skin, cry: god god god

Catey Scullion