Category: poetry

those lips still cut
with every touch
with every view, so
tie me to the screen
to bring them closer,
still closer, to me

there is no such
thing, love
there is only bruise
a thumb pressed to
heart-boxes caged
within rows of ribs
and vanities

so give over blind
a seer for sweet pain
rending through
to see so clear
it hurts

there was a used-to-matter
and now a not-certain-it-does
laid across existence-as-wraith
as the haint at the bottom
of the stairs and down the hall

it could beautiful, one supposes
if such a dream were real and
i am dreaming of us dreaming
of one of us drowning and
one of us is just me just dreaming
of slipping under the wave

surrender comes easy with
no ropes cast to the deep

whispers doubt &
memory these
pushnail hands to
rust on through &
twistgrind bone to
raindrop splash
my naked face

who cares for
tonight tonight
when something
rests between
fold & trench
forgotten in
butterfly dream?

there is no love
betangled of song

only—

aether i wish of breath
to slip and slip and to
butterfly to lethe away
drink to drift to float away
her mouth to mouth
of mine and sway
with hip to lip and
aether a wish away