Dirt

There is a notion in your skull

At least there's motion when I crawl

Your elbow is sharp

Against my ribs and mine is dull

I have learned to start and stall

There is nothing for me here

There is a woman in her sleep

Who fills me bottles, feeds me tea

Peel an apple with your nails

And there is dirt and there is juice

And I am mixing up the two

I am dragged, clenched by you