I miss the ego goo of youth
hot peaches in a bowl so yielding
I felt tender toward my tick
that plushy bug who stuck and sucked
the cold place on my neck
who filled up on what filled me without shame
The doctor tweezed him off
I said No no this creature’s
mined the cyst of me for food
how can we yank him from his only host
how can we slay the tiny saint
who drains me of the sorrow of myself?