I'm chewing gristle
gnashing my teeth on bone
yet somehow it
is like honeycomb
and in it,
sweetness.

Splinters of bone between
my teeth like
macabre toothpicks,
quills of a porcupine,
fangs of a spider.

I'm building a room
for a little princess girl
White curtains with fringes in pink
Bedding all in pink, save white ruffles
on the edge of the blanket, and pillows.
A dresser with vanity,
soft wood, painted pink,
with darker pink (almost indigo?)
handles.
The walls, pink.
The door, pink.
Everything pink.

But the piece de resistance?
The white framed windows,
filled with the most beautiful
crystalline
pink
glass.

Because of this, every bit of light
entering the room
swirls in a kaleidoscope of sunlight
shaded pink.

And in the bed
my baby girl
pink P.J.s
asleep
safe
content.

A tongue across top teeth
brittle spaces they hold
inside the guts of an urn
spray painted indigo,
and that
is your color.

You always say you write
Water,
while I write
Fire.

I write flame
and I burn brighter than most,
my love.

And you are the water
that somehow held me
alit
until the moment you
no longer could.

(my neglect, my taking for granted,
my mental illness [Bipolar etched ****** features], death and loss)

And now,  I've slipped
and been doused.
I no longer write flame
I write the snuffed out
I write the ones who lose
I write the loss of
purity
innocence
childishness
love
My little girl...
... gone.

And so it seems I've been drenched
in November Rain.
It's true, you know:
The pain of loss remains.

I was your first,
but more importantly,
I want to be your last.

We are more than this.
The evidence?
Those many memories,
for example, this:

The never-ending date
in which at about 7:30 A.M.
your legs opened
like I was returning
to the eternity of death
through your gate-of-life
warm
soft
and wet
crying for invasion.

I knew there was no escaping you.

We were meant:
From open handed
unrestrained
open-palmed
strikes to your face as
I penetrate you,
to the way you lean
into my hand
squeezing your throat
until you nearly
lose consciousness,
let go last moment
hard-******* in for air
your body more alive
then ever
woke again
from another slap
and your eyes gasp wide open
looking for Daddy
and finding my gaze,
and being at peace
with the weight
of me
on you.

My heights are like you've never seen,
I succeed where Icarus failed
and I touch the sky.

My beauty is
alluring,
but deadly.

I am higher than Everest,
and despite the many attempts,
none have survived.

A circle goes 'round
still after these years
you pained that sweet
little girl
and pained that sweet
little girl
and pained that sweet
little girl
and pained that sweet
little girl.

And are you not surprised?
She is numb to you, now.

I've seen a sun rise
sense-shocking
but it is an empty gourd
next to the
light
I see in you.

Ocean-sized my arms wide
taking pictures of a happy girl,
washing away in the tide,
the water split at sun rays,
sand was beneath your feet
oozing up through the toes,
pulling you longingly outwards
as the water slid by
and back out
to where it came from.