Gram

I'm a capable granddaughter
capable of grand sin
with long legs and mustard quarters
I am often unsure of where I'm going
or where I've been
lower your red lips in my mulched mound with a shy grin
drinking lukewarm crystal water from my spiral tower
like we're more than friends
power hour gin shots from the tip of your pink cock
wearing grandmother's thick skin
and my own ruffled socks

I'd stop
but it's not in my tight-fitting genes
your hand in a hot fist wrapped tight around my spleen
we throw secrets against the wall
tally the score
and repeat
found grammy on the kitchen floor bleeding red and deep
laid beside her
closed my tired eyes
and went to sleep.

TA