His Smile Breaks Up The Black

Who cares about the swelling in the apple
the thrumming of a finger when crimson is
a pocket on the sun, a feeling in the tongue.
Who cares about the sick days, his exploding
orange lighter, the drugs, the millions of beer
cans
Who cares when the world
is whirling and he's latched on to your left nipple
and all the trees are bare. Who cares.