sometimes i get so alone in my loneliness--
an island in the dancing waves,
a dirtclod in a diamond cave--
i search for solace in your sagging *******,
some purpose in your imperfection.
i use the ridges of your ribs' recesses
as momentary misdirection,
i indulge in the dimples of your lower back with
all intents of intense distraction.
but i'm sorry for my feelings fleeting
& my love not lasting past the weekend,
if i'm not tangled in your skin's dimensions
i'm in the trenches dispensing demons
(i ****** habits like they're heathens).
& when it's time to wash my hands,
i rinse them in your innocence
& raid you like the villages
i plunder in the daylight hours.
i'm stunned at how your heart devours
what i run from like a coward.