reflection

I'm sick of staring in the mirror
and watching question marks
fall out of my eyes
like menstrual blood.

this is not religion
this is not nature

It's a quest and a longing
for a faceless soul; a terror without morning.
And for some ridiculous reason
he is my lost dawn.

this is not agreeance
this is recognition.

Sucker

With a turn of his head,
"I'm like a ghost", he said.
An' I said
"baby, you're real to me."

then leeches grew from his fingertips
while I forgot everything
there is to know about salt.

I've got muscle and tissue
working against me
but this oxygen ain't enough
to keep me alive.

For the Music Man

He's a good, good man -

a voice of buddist coating,
a leechy hand for pain.

I'm looking up at the sky,
but I'm down on my knees.

Yeah he's a good, good man.

Untitled

Underneath the lamp post,
in the pathway lined
with romantic persuasion
is exactly where
you did not kiss me.

And I drew ends from the moon
and the haze of heart-shaped illogic.

I begged the dusk
and the arborous audience
for just one still moment
and that's precisely when
you did not stop.

Eels

Lick your limbs.
Taste the salt;
The sweat
That hardens my heart.
This flesh
Like eels
In desperation.
It slips,
And it slides,
And it feels so right.
But after the final moan,
Breathless,
And dizzy,
I wonder if you miss me
When you're not
In my thighs.