Art by Chelsea Pentland

bugs flung across my windscreen, baby detonated bombs smear their winged debris and green honey. sunned gum pastes my thigh to every seat, suction off; hot skin; heavy air; sticky thing. peanut butter glues down my sandpaper tongue, i move it through my dry mouth, dog mouth, without swallowing. tacky moon lollipops cling to any loose thread they can reach, weaving in ferociously the irreversible knot of a little something sweet; yes everything catches on me. stickiness my only certainty, everything i rub past lunges at me, tightens around my body; yes everything touches me. particular wounds radiate their own emerald light and mine attract men with wings and glossy eyes, my web my glistening trick glows under morning frost. i dangle hung spun moths all places with me, give all my dizzy darlings love equally; yes i am the sticky thing. baby can you take a look real quick is there something in my teeth? feel but can’t see a little repercussion wedged inside me, princess and the pea, storing bodies like poppy seeds. bite down; bruise my upper arm with the stamp of every thumb; lockjaw glued there toothpick back of the throat under the tongue baby there’s another body caught between my canine teeth. time burns past so fast but i get to grip the grazes, anyone who wants me gone has to cleave me off; i’m composed entirely of shimmering scars. everything changes is changing me touches me i touch everything relentlessly touching, nose to nose; hot skin; heavy air; stickiness is friction is our only evidence of connection and i, knitting my silver spider lace, brush skin on the subway and run up my palm along another string of cutting grass