The Tell-Tale Heart

drawn on the side of his neck

two umbrella handles touching or an upside-
down "J" kissing itself in the mirror (gringa
 
loca he always calls me crazy white girl)
bees circling like confused crossing

guards his mouth a thin coat-hanger
wire before I even finish I rub at

the thin ink with my wet thumb
and then my tongue when it
 
refuses to budge he swats
and asks me what

the hell were you thinking