I am hungry for you, brown girl.

Spider-like you crawl,

your eyes are milk.

Do not gaze upward with your mouth

open, red.

Swallow. You are tender.

Your knees are covered in dust.

You kneel too much.

Slide this way.

Let me force-feed you

this long clot of love,

this virus,

this dirty pill.

Lituo Huang lives in Los Angeles. Her fiction and poetry have appeared or are forthcoming in JMWW, Bosie Magazine, Recenter Press Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. www.lituohuang.com @LituoH