dismemberment.

sipping coffee clouds in the corner i watched as your body
slowly dismembered itself under the bar lights
and how the stench brought on the barflies

your head was the first to go, rolling awkward little semi-circles
across the beer puddles and chipped nail polish flakes on the floor
and then your fingers, spider-legging away into cobweb crevices
your arms, tearing themselves from your shoulders,
dragging trails of stringy red bits behind them, lit up electric neon
and picking up the gravely muck as they went
i watched your legs struggle and snap off, watched them pirouette
though the back door and into the dumpster alley
your torso was most fascinating,
solid and strong and splitting down the middle
your organs spilling out around it
in fancy bouquets of pink and violet, ivory and the sort of blue
that your lips were now, where your head was still lolling, going grey

i ordered a second cup, marveled at the skilled toes
of the dancers on the floor
effortlessly spinning and kicking in the mess
and at last call, i bent and removed your heart from its center spot in the floral arrangement of you,
i tucked it into the pocket of my overcoat, and slipped out the door