Your hugs are comfort, your kisses sweet,
A tender affection, my heart's retreat.
In your embrace, I find my song,
A love so pure, where I belong.

Did you sense my emergence, good beak,

A gloopy shell dragging egg slime and sand.

To the waiting spume.

With clammy innards, I lumbered.

Under a morose sun

While you pecked my indifferent

Eyes to nourish your blood disease.

Adieu, good beak, it was mine to be

Momentary.

You call me your dog,
your *****, your fool,
hurling words like stones
to shatter my heart.

I wag my tail anyway,
smiling through trembling lips,
fetching scraps of kindness
from the shadow of your hands.

You call me useless,
a beast beyond learning,
but I only want to please you—
to sit, to stay, to love.

Even as you turn away,
your voice cracking the whip,
I crawl through every wound,
bearing the weight of your name
like a leash around my soul.

For to be your dog
is still to be near you,
and I, the fool,
would bleed to feel you call me mine.

He had in his hand ..
A violin
A violin
In his long hand
In his long hand
Trembling

The dress she wore
Nonexistent
It fell away like dust
And exposed a body
Of only skin
Of only skin
And her hips the lines
of a cello
of a cello
played
In the rain
Wet and deep
And cavernous

He held in his hand
A violin
And she

And she
And she... ... ... ..

In the rain

Deep and cavernous
And wet

And he
And he .., ..

Trembling

I’m a bird
which chases a kite
forgetting the thread
which guides it

I’m waiting for the day
my feathers would be wounded
by your thread
so that my eyes can glance
your magnificent face