If I were to mindlessly meander the streets
That you told me were all in my thalamus, I
Would find the edge of Earth, devastated
And barren. Then I would contently sit on the
Brim and toss broken asphalt into the somber
Chasm and listen for echoes that remain absent.
I would welcome the silence into my
Lonesome and say, “Thank you for
Reminding me that this is all  my imagination.”

Iris’s dance back and forth behind closed eyelids
Chest expanding up and down, steady
Mouth hangs open, inhaling and exhaling midnight air.

Slither between cotton sheets and bare skin,
Against arm hair, weaving between hills of *******
Pave the trail of goose bumps.

Tunnel past saliva soaked taste buds
Slick scales snag on a slippery uvula
Oil coats the esophagus

Where are the lungs?
Hiss down the vocal chords, echo
Limbless body navigates the diaphragm

Weave past ribs
Under, over, under, over
Spot the synchronized lumps of flesh
Dancing in unison to the rhythm of the life beat
Coil around, hug them tight
Constrict the chest until the dancing stops

Locate the heart, file the fangs
Make the ******* beat stop
Release the venom into the bloodstream
Paralyze every nerve, every fiber
But just enough to nurture agony.

I used to count the hours until the moon awakened
and the stars blanketed the blackness of the sky.
I fought through the heaviness of my eyelids,
managing to stay awake long enough to answer your call.

My nights were encompassed in your stories, thoughts…laughter.
I was tainted with infatuation.
Every night I was wasted in your love,
and not once did it cross my mind that this was dangerous.

Now I loathe every passing hour of the day.
I kiss the sun goodnight, praying that it would return soon
so that I am not alone for long.
I now pray for my eyes to grow heavy,
knowing you would no longer call.

My nights are now encompassed in the ghosts
of your stories, thoughts…laughter.
I am tainted with loneliness;
wasted by your love.
The only thing in my mind
is that I should have known you were dangerous.

The first words
You ever said to me were,
“May I please take your hand in marriage?”

                                                    ­                                                                 ­      I stared at the burning cigarette
                                                                ­                                          Nestled perfectly between your fingertips.
                                                     ­                                                                 ­                My eyes made their way
                                                                ­                                               To the hand that was holding my own.

                                                           ­                                                                 ­I let the words slip past my lips
                                                            ­                                                                 ­  Without a second thought or
                                                              ­                                                                 ­                   Hint of hesitation.
                                                     ­                                                                 ­            Because for once in my life,
                                                                ­                                                                 ­             Something felt right
                                                                ­                                                                 ­  In welcoming spontaneity.

The first words
I ever said to you were,
*“Of course.”