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Alligator Blood

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You carry all that suffering 

Like a gun between your arms

You told me:

”When I’m good, I’m very good

but when I’m bad, I’m better,

I’m yours forever, I’m yours forever”


 

 

The gators thrash at the boat, nearly knocking him out of it with their efforts, the scent of fresh blood making them frenzied. It had been too long since they’d last been fed. 

 

He drops the pieces into the water, one by one, watching the way the beasts twist around the limbs and turn the murky green water an ugly black. 

 

 

 

 

The cleaned skull sits, unmoving, in his bedroom, on his nightstand. 

 

And each night, he would kiss it, and bid it goodnight. 

 

 

 

Some years later, Jehan would go out on the town, in an old red truck, and an old leather jacket draped over his shoulders. And he would lure in a man who stands too close and touches him as he passes by. 

 

And then he would take his daughter. And keep her. 

 

And the locket that swung from his neck would never open, for fear of losing the tufts of blonde he’d tied with a ribbon and sliced from Tiefer’s head as he’d bled to death in their living room. And the black stain, and the hole in the floor would be hidden by the rug, and the cycle would continue. 


And I see the future,

and there’s no death,

 

cause you and I, 

we’re angels