Swallow, purple-chipped. Money the same as bitch.
I mean my mother hit me with bills.
Not rent, but mouth rent, limp, slack-jawed
From switch of tone, of love-lashed tongue,
Of salt poured directly into sinuses,
The way I pour old water into plants.
I’ve salivated from pain; a nutrient,
A root in dirt epsomited to bloom.
I feed it to women as basil and smile
When they leave me wet-lipped and greening.