Darling cut me – wide and open
I want your fingernails to touch my bones
Strum a chord with my veins,
Kiss the black and wrinkled organs.
Like Christ, my mother
and the Creditors
The yellow of teeth and eyes
Are the color of the stars I’d
Sling down for you
I do not sleep
Writing a thousand poems
You will not see
About the way your hair looks
In this dirty light
And how cars honking
remind me of when I first held your hand
we were crossing the light
and you squeezed my fingers
so that one was spilling into the other
and I thought
if only things
were that simple
for us two.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
I grew tired of tying my shadow to your heel
before you disappeared through my window.
Orgasms feel so much better
with direct eye contact
I learned that you sacrificed nothing
by putting up with my weight
but I was the martyr for dealing with your
Dorito’s and stale cigarette breath
there are more positions than doggy style
you never read
the love notes
I am not in the habit of sleeping with men I do not know
and nine years into this carnal complicity
you no longer are the smiling boy I once adored.
if I wanted to feel like
I gave everything I had to someone who
did not know what to do with it
I would go to Church more often.
I am the moon and you forgot to act accordingly
the last time I held you I thought of jelly fish
I love your memory too much to allow you to soil it.
please stop knocking on my window late nights
I am the moon
I am full.
No thank you
I have had enough.