no
better muse
.

//we trace over eachother’s outline in wild gestures:
taking measurements
      
trembling with bodies like shivering beds
          meatpalms up
          begging to receive
something in the invisible, irradiated dark

creases in the same giftwrapping bag that makes the rounds
    year after year
we shave off every last fiber
of our oldest tinder pile
in solemn observation for the
thumb on the cold glass
universe

you called me home
with an invitation
to
claw your body clean
apart .
“closer”, you smiled :
as i
came

words fail
where only touch shall suffice

all heads throb
as
         a
papered-up-shop-window moon
decomposes without much commentary

the stars are out :
sight-hounding for mortals
to dine
upon

and i sit,
belly-full, and heart-hungry :
hoping to
*****

just past shadow dance
and the puppet theater of her ember ring

[i am the branch breaking in the dark ]

in her dark
in HER dark

i step.

success
is a measure
of pleasures