|
| it was quiet where they stood, in the eye of it, in the mess of an infant god, new to this world and to its noise.
it was quiet and bloodthirsty. parched, even, at his becoming.
aching green and harsh.
it was low where he had risen.
in the space where they stood, it was this way. above them not so, nor below. beside them not at all.
| | |
| clumsy, straining hands
after all this, what does it take to spark a shiver?
after the slue of gruesome maturities
we took so precociously to heart
after all this
please, exorcise me my nostalgia
after so many coolings and slowings down
tired heroes we
fit
fully
thrash against an effortless future
after all this, we have some chance?
this groaning hope and waste?
after ourselves, almost
the weight of answering is terrible
wicked, rushing, its cold latelies
after all this
that tomorrow flits away
undissimilar from yesterday
yet half as dear
and twice as gay
sculpted (perhaps) of poorer clay
nay
nay
after all this, our false hungers only bray
and do not burn
but say:
"life is very long"
| | |
| fantastic, absolutely fantastic, how it matters and doesn't matter all at once. | | |
| when we go out i thrill to see the edges of my love letters
spidery against your thighs, winking at me coy
i almost spill my drink into your lap so i can lap it up
i need to rub the letters in, i need to whisper in your eyes
when we dance your neck accelerates me rough around its curve
i lose my balance, feel unnerved, and yeah,
hurry away to fresh air where the g's are less severe
and then your face as you approach, concerned, evokes a little turn
when we kiss it's not a story, it's a lonely lusty chord
it's the spelling of your eyes and the code beneath their words
it's the taste that makes me hungry for your color and your heat
it's the loud sound pounding from the ground into our feet
| | |
| is it in my head?
the rhythm of your breath (demanding) against my chest?
did you leave some imprint?
a negative?
(quick, now look at a white wall
holy shit it's jesus h.)
or is it real?
did i carry your breath with me?
(what's that word again-
synchronicity?)
maybe something got fuzzy with the quanta
between you and me
mayhaps we're entangled
i wouldn't be surprised
not with your eyes
| | |
|
