Bloodless Kiss

The razor laces her skin.  A burn.
No blood upon her ankle.
Hot water fills the tub.
Swirling bubbles flop, roll over, while the wasp
caws its usual forked tongue.
The man of the hive believes he is bear.

"When is college done?"  The bear
whips his teeth at her and the burn
appears as the foot drops from the slick edged tongue.
"When will you find a job?"  She's ankle
deep in spit, washing the venomous wasp
from her jointless thought into the white tub.

The giant ceramic tub
hides her anger from the bear,
and her body from the nesting wasp
that creams dull double razors.  Burn
her, let the wound seep out the ankle,
but no blood falls.  Her tongue

is not slithery enough to defend against his tongue.
"You take to long, you procrastinate."  In the tub
she speaks under water, "shut-up."  The ankle
sprouts fangs towards the unseen bear
that can only scab.  The door burns
with mind.  Wasping

freely, Mr. Bear births wasp
words, "I can't do it all."  Her rattled tongue
weeps.  Doesn't he realize what she does?  "Don't burn
the food.  Wash out the tub.
Why don't you help the kids with homework more?"  Bear
is wasp; wasp is bear; woman is woman draping ankles

loose with scabs; not even printed blood could ankle
that growl.  Her silence speaks nothing, in her wasp
cave of his hive--not clean enough for the nesting bear--
and hides her body from his ejaculating tongue
that tries to drip poison into the tub
with his gnarling burn.



She sinks blubber tongue deep into the tub
trying to scrub the wasp burn away.
But the bear's will will strike ankle again and again in bloodless kiss