It's in the bloom of a bruise
It's in the way she wears cold steak on an eye that's swollen shut
In that hairline split between love and ache
Kiss with spit
It's in a fist full of hair
It's in a gasping for air
It's in the imprint of teeth into flesh, into scalp, into the hum-, into the drums
Kiss with spit
What we hide behind locked doors
What we sweep under floorboards
All the filth that gets us by
It's the violence that keeps us alive
Young, numb, and dumb
I want the scar
I want split lips
I want the gag
I want the choke
I want the spit
Kiss with spit
I feel the pain
I kiss with spit