On By Catarina Kush

I kiss her fingers and
say:
you are a jungle.
I stretch,
yawn
and out falls a
knuckle.

What does love feel like?
she asks.
I turn to
cough
and out falls another.
kiss her flowered mouth
through my tight teeth
and say

like a wet machete
ripping through
the jungle.

“camouflage”