Recently I saw a production of Macbeth where the Macbeths were so turned on in every scene
each line delivered into the others’ chin, breathed
into each others’ necks,
fronts pressed together, so fucking
hot about killing.
Maybe before we fuck I could dash out the brains of a new born.
I could negotiate with nature & make my breastmilk taste like seawater,
I could kill all your friends or convince you to kill them,
and I could go after,
drag my hands through their blood –
make the murder scene look perfect.
Then when you call me bad girl I might come this time