the gift of humanity
is the claim by the self
and our lives
become poems we were born to tell
we shed time the way your body sheds weight
of days behind our now
but can you grasp it?
now, i mean
before then and soon all become
muddled into systems of feelings drawn out
by the same creature
who trained whistles and rails on time.
until then, or now at least
we’ll be wrapped in sun kissed skins
and i’ll give you mine
just in case.
there was a glimpse of poetry
you have not tasted before
lovers calling your mouth
flicking them off with your teeth
this has nothing to do with the threat of strangers in the forest
i’m making sure you understand the moral of the story
forgive my salt
but i will skin hides
and dig my way out with my teeth
if i must.
you’ll sacrifice an entire eyelash
a whole world and your wish
only for my happiness.
nothing could touch me more
the spider’s web can catch the moonlight
but cannot keep it.
if you insist on being as simple as a fox
i will insist on being as complicated as one too.
perhaps i called your name so loudly
trying to shout my panicked pulse.
sugar gliders and six of swords
everything you need is already there for you
you are ready
enjoy the journey.
it doesn’t matter where you land
keep your goals clear
and you determination clearer
sex is not love
but merely a territory love
love is a privilege
and all privileges are undeserved and must be payed over
and so we hold peace
for this lightness
but love has a double aspect;
it is non-being
but it is also being, the terrifyingly material being of time.
finished the game
before i played the hand
bad instincts and obedience to lust
all tarnished in knots we tie within our species
coming all fool
come in our forest
all push me back in
hands behind my back i’m pinned
and needles don’t sting nearly as bad as they used
trying on your warnings just for skin
shaving off fur from my mussel
too sudden to react
we’re going with he motion of the
train we pushed off track
free-lancing our affections
we’ve got no shields left.
she molds love like an effect of mercury
i’m silk smoke
trying to understand what hats are poison
and which are mad mad lost our minds
there’s no pause to this soundtrack
no repeat skip breath
just responsive urges
“butterflies dipped in honey”
what sticky messy sweetness
but she holds my wrists above my head
and there’s no other disposition
to my sanity
than her breath on neck.
perhaps this is our catalyst
perhaps it takes an avalanche
of pin me down
tie me down
to tame the beast.
can you hear our sides purr?
never have my polarities
been so agreeable.
now look what you’ve done,
i’m on my knees for you.
i’m good at war
i’ve fought tooth nail and cedar at the ready
shouting at the most stubborn mountain
yes, i’ve even moved stone
turned it to gold
watched it melt between my fingers
they call me Minos
now you’re golden plum ripe and
delicious drip dripping though my lipsbetween pants moans
and whispered sweet goodnes
i love the way you love
calling my own bluff
sitting on my hands
what can become of my world
when we have to ask permission for our own pleasure?
what will become of the beast
when starved and chained
no gentle lead here
no exhale for anyone
shock ready and primed for now
obediently following your pleasures
allow me dear perhaps
a better, a newer
some blinders to allow
these feral teeth
to bite another’s dinner.
lets not forget the reason we’re here eh?
a hint of salt and harshness
i’m swimming in affection
FOX once called me a fire
that burned everything it touched
lover, you are glacier at the edge of my map
give me a chance to explore the uncharted
soft snow blankets – there’s too much to see here
between fluff-huff colored bed
there’s a prism of infinite inside this
i’m a fickle hound you see,
or have been – sniffing up the wrong dresses for as long as i can remember
refusing to lick the bone for fear
of finishing the marrow
now paws in air
i’ve found loyalty –
these mad dogs mad dogs laddie
i’m all mad laz
dazed in serenity and capacity.
there’s always room for redemption
some men spend years ridding the earth to extinction
would you look at them now
creating stars from the finger paints of your last battle.
sweet little Scorpion,
you’ve brought nothing but death
to my furies
stinging them slowly with sweetness and love,
i’m breaking every cell open
releasing the old ribs from past lovers
and reminding that reluctant Eve that
pomegranates are still preferable
to some side-show “apple of my eye.”