Breed Poem by Charles Malcolm

Tiny
twirling avocado
that snores
and cackles
during lucid dreams
and whiskey steps
as pitted
and sanely twisted
as my own.

I'm not sure
if I
should buy
you
blood diamonds
or a head board.

A new roommate
or make you mine.

Everything
or nothing
at all.

Write you
right now
or never again.

Ruminate
on what might be
or relish
in what already is.

I should
just
stop typing
and listen
to the screams
and footsteps
as your skin hits the floor.