Glue
 by Amanda Caza

Lover, you tried to kill me.
Put a plastic bag over my head
filled with a strange-stinking glue
that binds you to me
that binds me to you
that binds us both to the memory
of the things you used to do

I should have tried
to kill you.
But bound to the stake,
what attempt could I make
my lips  all sealed with glue?
How does it feel to be you?
I wouldn't like to be you.
The only way is to bleed you away
as leeches used to do.

Lover, my veins are red-blue trees of pain
Which connect me
far too much
to you.
Perhaps if I have a tranfusion
They might bleed me clean of your glue.