DIRT

There is a notion in your skull
At least there’s motion when I crawl
Your elbow is sharp
Against my ribs and mine is dull
I have learned to start and stall
There is nothing for me here
There is a woman in her sleep
Who fills me bottles; feeds me tea
Peel an apple
With your nails
And there is dirt and there is juice
And I am mixing up the two
I am dragged
Clenched by you