I want to be inside every girl you ****** before me,
show you the birthmarks you never noticed
shaped like canoes and rocketships.

I will get her chest to rise, then fall,
steal the very source of her breath and curl my fingers
around it –
into dough, how you never could knead.

I have my hand on her throat
because you hated when she would talk.
We could work together, tie her hair into a knot.

I just want to be inside the girls who have intestines
like cotton candy and ******* like watermelon
explain why you should
have loved her as a woman sometimes.

You say you prefer my skin, and the way I whimper
but maybe you just did not
**** her hard enough.

when you asked me why i never wrote
i told you i forgot
but if you'd looked beneath my bed
you would have known the truth

i wrote you
i wrote you a hundred times
and another hundred
in my dreams.

Please one more time tonight
I gotta get right before Sunday service
Pinhole pupils gouged by beauty
I am in love with the store clerks
Ringing up ciggarettes and vidalia onions on their cash registers
I just want to come over that conveyor belt
And kiss them

Dilated impulse control
Has me reaching out into the darkness
Looking for your hand
I'm not alone
In my head at least
You lie next to me

It feels a little bit like life in here
Away from the noise and the din
Have a shotgun barrel beneath my chin
Thinking of rebirth and a god with eyes

I load up .6
Just for the hell of it

I just want to see
If I'll wake up tommorow
And find you still sleeping on my ribs

You fall too hard and you fall too fast
Don't you know you had what lasts?
And I say had
Because it's past tense
I'm sorry that "til death"
Did you part after only a quarter of a century
Makes a man think
It's ok to be scared of loneliness
It's ok to be afraid there's no more shared happiness
It's just a neurosis though
You know that right?
It's ok to feel like you're swimming in the ocean of your bed
And the coast guard is
Not on the way
To save you
Being single after taking vows
Is more than unfortunate
Worse than divorcing
She died
And I think you should be selfish
Just for a while, dad
Because you fall too far
And you fall too fast
Don't you know meteors burn themselves up
Doing just that?
Don't you remember
Camping out in the laundry room
Explaining falling objects and gravity
(which I still don't believe by the way)
Pointing at the sky out the window
Teaching your 6 year old
About the iron:nickel ratios?
Saying "Don't wake mom."
And dad, moons will glide in and out of orbit
Around you
And the vacuum of space
Will at times be filled with your loneliness
And longing for the past
And you'll keep falling fast
Burning up in the atmosphere
Leaving little craters here
And there
From the impact you have
On her
And her
And her
And your highschool girlfriend
And your daughters
And that woman in your yoga class
It's ok
You fall too hard
And  you fall too fast
Don't you know
Only superman could survive an impact like that?

******* no longer feels like I am trying to pull a
glass heart from the smallest hole in my body
but I can still exhale poppy seeds
from between my legs,

have sweat catch my hair with its Elmer’s glue,
split the mermaid fin into ten spread toes,
tune guitar strings with my fingers,
and paint a postcard whenever moonlight spills milk.

I capture every **** in nature
fantasizing about the points of a star protruding
like *******.

It is natural for my skin to slip inside my skin
to break levees the way waterfalls open for summer –
drown sorrows in the sink
that creates freckles on my love’s face.

And when I think of him, and when I finish building a
bridge to the self-nirvana I taste,
I am as a mother bird making a nest twig by twig.

I think I have figured out where all those bobby pins went –
of the hundreds that appear in my school’s
lost and found, at least double
could be discovered a little bit under my chest. Where
I breathe, where men touch me, there
are sharp things a beautiful girl could pin her hair up with.

Moths are born from spider webs,
creatures who make love with seven legs bent over their heads
and that is how I feel for you.

Almost invisible upon the back of plush blacks
merely caught up in a game of Twister, twisted, tied,
birthing beautiful flies -
I want to feel my saliva crawling out from your ****** hair.

I have not yet decided if I want my body
to be a weapon, or if I want to use weapons on it.

It came from the constellation
Capricornus, which is parallel to the planet Earth –
the swirling element I am associated with.

Not air or blue sea
as you might expect from someone as blue as me.

The first time I laid on someone else’s legs
I remembered the man who loved me was a Fire sign
because my skin became as easy to
flake off as chalk, and I liked that very much.

Pomegranates peel quite the same
without knife, perhaps I am fruit more than I am sad.

This is a type of fruit originating in India
where round is the most honored shape and
my mulberry smile may give someone an element
of Fire between their legs.