Only dry grains left  .  .  .
In the desert of our love,
  .  .  .  Even light dusted.

Selfless service.
Ego-less existence. Robes

Unwearable to mortal
Men, yet their colours are

Worth adopting onto
One's own everyday

Fatigues. I sit with one eye
Closed wherever I am, wondering

Whether this snake uncoiling
Within me is Kundalini awakening

To tell me that Dio's Stand Up
And Shout is not a mantra,

Or just some sense of knowing
That I have not a single reason to

Smile. Until I
Smile.

I fly up river
So that I may
Cry
For you,

You, the seventh sun of Venus -
Impossible -
The prism rain dropping from nighttime,
An enlightened energy.

Why oh why
Must I cry for
You
Sweet love, togetherness is not for us;
We are apart,
Not a part.

I'm so dizzy
With your name
And my name
Bouncing around my skull
Like free butterflies let loose on
Everything -
It's your fault.  
Of course.

Still I cry -
We could have our love song,
Which is the beat of snow,
Ice blue stone
Cold hearts leak.
Oh dear
You'd say
Love, don't fret
I'd say
And you'd laugh your robin laugh.

But instead I
Wait,
Slow like the walls around me,
My head sinking beneath blanket waves
Just so I can
Cry.
**** this.
I hear my own song.
It's my
Heart.

I am one of three –
Shadow, skin, and light.
A triplet split from the same egg and *****.
**
Make it 3 and you’ll have me
Explicit.
It’s so ****,
Being cleaved into thirds.  
A ******* with myself –

The shadow is morose.
A needy, demanding *****
Begging to be cut up.
I want to,
So I can see the blood wring around my –
Her
Wrists like shackles pinning her
To my bed.
I know it’ll shut her up
But I can’t bring myself to do it.
I’m not that *****.  

The skin is boring.
A virginal flower
Dreaming of understanding.  
She’s too wholesome,
Always waiting for the right
Version of herself to come along.
Saving myself –
Herself
For the right time.
My tastes aren’t quite so
Vanilla.

The light is adventurous.
A psychotic, brilliant ****
******* herself into the ground.
Necrophilia just got a whole lot hotter,
Bodies piling up thanks to her STDs –
Stupid, thoughtless decisions.
Protection?  Ha!
That’s for normal people.
There’s no need for me –
Her
To slow down;
We like it fast.

The skin doesn’t participate.
The *****, virtuous ******
Fidgets as the others 69 –
A disgusting yin yang
Of low and high.
The shadow drinking downers
Until she can’t remember
All the bruises covering her heart,
Too distracted by the bile
Smeared across her lips.  
The light popping enough uppers
To strip herself of her
Consciousness,
Naked and raw
She often wakes bitter
Of her restored senses.  

This ******* takes place
In a womb,
An amniotic ocean
Swaying toward the shores
Of existence.
Two will drown –
Vanishing triplet syndrome.
Only one may be pulled from
Mental waters and placed on the sands of reality.

The labor takes 33 hours -
Finally I emerge.  
Who survived?
There is no way to tell.

Gruff grouch griping
His words say bags
But his tone says blacks-
I'm a piece of slate covered up by white
Bars that shimmer in fluorescent lights -
He's just doing his job.
I went to a wedding
And now I'm having my bag checked
Just me, no one else,
For "contraband."
That white boy over there,
Yeah the one with blue eyes, eyes that make you
Comfortable,
He left his passport at home.  
You smile at him, it's okay you say,
Today is not your day, you bark at me.
It never is.

Damnably grey, I sink into
A lightless sea.  My breath falls
In gasps of air, my eyes
Shut as gas rises.  Dear Pity

May you have my lungs fill with
Cold, watery iron until the
Sharks carry my pieces like
Prayers to fishing boats.

Stuck in the colloid
Of my wasteful life I create
My own shadow - malachite jaw
Swallow me before I am

Forced to burn the belly of
A whale.  Moon thief lends
My paper body a dapple of stolen
Light to dry my soggy skin.

If only the black water could
Clean between my numb ears -
Instead it sits tepid and full of
Mosquitos leaking with eggs and blood.

All I wish is for a wind to
Uncloud me, for air to inflate
Me.  I breathe, I breathe -
More fool I.