I don’t know love
but obsession, idolatry.
my starlight shines on
only those who would carry me.
buy my sex, my smile,
buy me life.
I’m always wrong.
fall prey to plagues, diseases,
your lips—vile—vial,
slow acting poison.
lie to me, I
lie with you.
the gift on your lips
the subtle tastes of foreign flavours.
I cling to you, my life raft
but am your stepping stone,
you hold me down; I drown.
after lovemaking we lie
together, spent, spending in sweaty silence
time we take, the world grudgingly gives
and ceases spinning
now still, my thoughts
turn to all the places we touch,
the ways we connect.
your thigh, plush and furry,
settled like snow in my knee’s contours;
your warm belly slung over my hip,
pulling, stretching my skin;
your chin sharp in the hollow of my collarbone;
your forehead damp at my temple;
stray, mussed hairs brush my brow.
the sun is setting.
whispering, you warn that I should leave;
I, pretty useless moon when
you grow in glare and novas.
but
though dazzling dawn will drown me out,
every night I rise to
make white light dance for you
longing to be bright as day
so you look up and breathe
‘beautiful.’
till the birth of sun
(that ruinous reaper)
I rise and fall in you
and beneath your shield
together
we lie
and wait.
I build around me walls of ice
in winter’s eternity,
a flawless fort
safe from everything but the
cold and you.
movements of your lips
like scalding knives
shave, slicken my dry core,
loose my tension.
then, through the warm moat
you’ve created you swim,
smooth and silent, muscular,
diving deep, a playful porpoise.
my front line,
faces drooping, dripping tears,
sees you clearly—
does not fire,
their weapons mangled wrecks.
we see you come
with bloody chainsaw and katana
and split our hall’s double doors.