Gunshot Love

Photo by ian dooley on Unsplash

A shipwrecked pistol came to my room & said it 
 wanted to sleep. She now lies in my bed. Naked on

the floor, my toes dipped in a blue river, in a fist
 of ice, I watch the seawater foam out of her mouth &

wonder if we can kiss. Metal pushing past the broken 
 gate of my tongue, into my clogged throat. It will kill

me one day, the way anything can kill anyone, so why
 should I be afraid? Not the first time I have held

something terrible in my mouth. Words I spit 
 like careless pebbles once blinded an eye. She lies

in my bed now, a one-eyed pistol loaded with the 
 death I crave. How does one resist this love, of bullets

in beating hearts, of mermaids eaten by whales. This love
 where even a murder by her growling hand would be

glorious.