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Ear by Jason Zuzga  

You agree to clean my ear. Pour

hydrogen peroxide in to a froth of static.

With a washcloth you swab a

drip before it reaches my mouth,

my head side down on the sink.

One touch hurricanes you open.

Inside you I’m mouthing clouds,

great birds generated at each

intersection of skin.

There are no

openings. I touch here

and you twitch, touch

here and you push

my head away. We lie

on the down comforter.

Our mouths hollow, raw with

violet wheat flavors.

I see the surfaces of your

eyes moisten. I will

brush your teeth

from behind.

Jason Zuzga
and Nerve.com