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by Wess Mongo Jolley

You draw me upon your skin and pierce me like

the bitterness of cigarettes on your tongue.

Were I to sketch myself as a panel

in your story or hang upon

you—weight pulling

against tender flesh

would you carry me?

Or wear me?

I lift my feet from the ground

pierce soft skin

slide through dark blood

and emerge shiny-bright.

Hiding beneath this clean linen

I am drunk on the taste of

your needled flesh.

About Wess Mongo Jolley:

Wess Mongo Jolley is a Canadian novelist, editor, podcaster, and poet, most well-known for hosting the IndieFeed Performance Poetry Channel for more than ten years. His work has appeared in journals such as Off the Coast, PANK, Danse Macabre, The Chamber Magazine, and Apparition Literary Magazine. His horror trilogy, The Last Handful of Clover, is being released on Patreon, Wattpad, QSaltLake, and as an audiobook podcast. Mongo writes from his home in Montreal, Quebec. Find him at

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