when they say 'dark energy',
one of the most mysterious phenomena in the solar system,
i swear
they are referring to the aura i recieve from you

when you see me thinking, perhaps i am worried about the cosmos
and the eventual explosion of eta carinae
or maybe
black holes defying physics and swallowing light
sometimes im pondering
the destruction of the atmospbere due to
gamma ray bursts
and the radiation left over from the cosmic microwave background
however,
what i spend most of my time thinking about is perhaps the most beautiful form of destruction of all time:
you.

Liz Taylor once said:

"Pour yourself a drink,
put on some lipstick and
pull yourself together."

I stopped believing in the positive power of alcohol
when I saw the struggle in my
70 year old great uncles bloodshot eyes
the time I caught him at 2 am
reaching for the whiskey in the top shelf of the cabinet

I apply lipstick every day
all crimson scarlet blood pooling on my breath
all dripping cherry popsicle
all lip stains on your neck and pillowcase
all red on red on red

I can't ever seem able to pull myself back together
Like stitches coming undone on a wound
Like egg shells cracking on hardwood floor
I stopped trying after 3 years of puzzle pieces
These days I make sure I never fall together so I never fall apart

"I wish you well."
                                                          ­                    



                                         ­                                     (but not too well without me)

IF THIS BODY
WEREN'T MINE
WOULD I STILL
HATE IT?

Reminder:
It's better to be losing her in books
than losing her to someone else.

a.g