I pour my heart into your mouth
in a fit of love drunken nausea,
but I shouldn't say that word.

I left my blood on your hardwood floors
that creak under the weight of my naked feet.
I play your floor like a piano
to wake the artwork on your walls.

I left my shadow in your doorway.
My twists and turns dance with wild lines of drawings,
as skin settles in pale cotton.

Fingertips ooze.
Sheets are ruined.
My eyes fill with blood.

Subconjunctival Hemorrhages

I poured my heart onto your floor, and left it there.
Could you bring it for me on Monday?