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Krissy Schiller Dec 2011
Tex
You,
And the smell that soaks your fingers
Relative of plastic
Of chemical, clean
That spark I found in your eye
The likes of which I'd only caught once
Reflected in mine
Of punishment and heat
Of sin drawn to sin
And that name
The only fiber of you which slips my tongue
Lost in the ache, that moment, uncut
Purgatory in the itch
Of the crawling, of hunger
Stretched tight, the rubber of your skin
That night on the sink edge
I was transformed
Born into a need, a slow burn
On the back of your guitar
I traded in these bones for bread
Of brown dogs and devils
Homesick for heaven
Of feelings lost in the drip
Oh for Southern gentlemen
All snake eyes and slow drawl
Sad cheap trick souls, all the same
Creatures of arrangement, of mutual gain
Krissy Schiller Aug 2011
So                   you were
          naïve
So much of a wolf was
I
Silently
We lay
                       sharpening our claws
Things began in love                      seen through a filter
Numbed by
                        buzz
                        and tamed by drugs

Of the lingering calmness of a


                                                              ­                 comedown
And the
                       ricochet of our fingers

My sweet dope,
You                        were
Your last pull was

                                                         It's beat.
Krissy Schiller Jul 2011
On the seventh day I met the devil
All alone on your bedside table
Without his flames and yellow tape
I hardly recognized him

Dressed in his casual whites
He just looked lonely
So I simply had to touch it.
And I said, "You sure make a big deal out of being bad"

He had a gun in his right hand
It was laughing
When I asked what was so funny
He told me it wouldn't hurt

Curiosity killed the cat,
and perhaps shot a beautiful water-colored hole through my brain.

He said, "Dip your toes in. Test the waters
See if they're as hot as they say"
So I jumped on in, headfirst
To discover the waters were ice cold.
Krissy Schiller Jul 2011
Caution, lost in the motion,
The tender lapse of green sea waves
The scent that has become you,
Sweet, sweet summer rain.

Like magnets, the polar pull, subsequent and building
The silent seize of your stomach muscles
Oh honeycomb.
Wrapped in cellophane, and the fleece in our ears

Your chin, the small hollow in which rests my head,
The cradle of your Adam's apple.
For hours I studied the color transmit in the darks of your eyes,
Of subtle change and shade

The soft, downy wool of your legs,
Warm blankets rescued from the creaking loft.
And your slow, sleeping breaths, of wind whistling through wheat fields
Shared dreams of barefoot gardens, sweet peppers in springtime

The gentle obstinacy of your fingers,
Extended forward in the thaw of shallow slumber.
The difference between oak and pine,
This nest you constructed, we lay in.

Nestled underneath the galaxy you installed, pin by pin.
Krissy Schiller Jul 2011
The stench of battery acid in the morning
The slippery lubricant of littered snakeskin on the floor
Trash that once found liberation, salvation in the motion of its use
Now limp, lifeless, devoid
Abandoned without muscle.

The shadow of our wicked forms, braced against the balcony edge
Nerves alight, take fire. The steepest bet, a wager of the deranged sense
And that smell. It hangs in the air, still
Engulfs you as the animal sense is heightened. Without reason, all is pleasure,
All is primitive.

Out on the veranda, Diana dances. Part impulse, part stimulant. Her dimples stretching wider, farther apart as continents. Her hips convulsing
Man with the long hair, "You burn you burn"
Oh mother, we were created equally. Together in one cruel, carbonate mass of malcontent motives, of wicked intent. Selfishness attracts selfishness.

We are but a refrigerator door full of strange magnets, gleaming. Your southern fingers,
Dancing a slow tango down my spine. Your grip, lowering, sweaty and deliberate
Oh viper.
The texture of freshly cut grass and ***** crusted over bare toes. All smells of peppermint,
Bitter citrus flower.

Woke up in the morning, dowsed in kerosene
Rose petals sticking to the roof of my mouth
"There is no heaven, no hell," he said. Only us.

— The End —