uncomfortable in skin
repulsed by mirror images
fragmented, yellow face
white paste to hide the decay
slit the belly open
and watch everything
hang open

heavy lines intersecting
beneath the prisms of light
that flicker under
iris veins
the sound of rain,
god am i stuck on the sound of rain
slow long drizzle
dragging a limp body across the ground
snaking beneath apple orchards
man's first sin was my last breath
dilating pupils finger nails
itching the skin,
an addiction i was born into
he spilled the last
words of loss
coming to crack along the ground
plastic communities tiny boxes
and fissures in the family
chipped tooth, your grin
is beautiful

i'd like to get drunk
off of sweet nectarine
and make love to the sound of pattering
rooftop rain
reciting declarations written on
cafe napkins, bits of dreams birthed
from hazy afternoons
sunlight the kind that sends you into
a tantalizing dance, fleetwood mac humming
from the phono graph
a scratch along the window screen
from the neighborhood tabby
naked beneath your sweater
collecting lint
to be plucked,
absentmindedly away
as kisses collect
scorching the hands
that dared to pull
the crust of the earth

the universe splayed its
organs across
the horizon line
specks of morning light
and saturn's rings revolving about
your head,a halo of biblical importance
pretty when i'm high
just like she was when
her flowers blossomed for the first time
and he read the scripture backwards
so he could make love at breakfast
without a sullen jesus
staring down from the rafters

purple arms still roaming
the cracking streets
unscented
vomiting
the next heartbreak
into your porcelain sink
rinsing the probability
of understanding humanity
down the sewage system
filtering
commercialized affection

******  analyzing
inside airports
buzzing machines and people's throats
quite the same sound
if your ear really captures it.
destitute and frail
the ******* ******
with too much
abandon
churning out empty husks of men,
a glory between legs
everything else
feels irrelevant.
squeeze
the insanity from my lungs,
a surgical reconfiguration
i'm constantly re-inventing myself
and this time
i'm stuck
on you.

breathless bodies
churning into a wave,
your eyes not quite like meadows
but rolling
rolling ,,
fuzzy green horizon,
the sun smiling with a thoughtless
prayer.
battery acid dripping from your hair.
i like when your body
makes my body blue
a carpet of rust,
textured,
contrasting the forest floor.
maybe i would be a bee keeper,
folding all the boys
up into honey combs.
a hive of
uncertainty.
lonely hearts still beating
a bruised remorse.