You **** me
like you want
me.

II

we cannot sing the songs
in our blood. unless -
they Have blood
on them.
or a song, in
them.

III

tonight, i have gone nowhere
and my adventure bleeds out
like a stuck pig
in a slipstream... a unusual ghost fork
in a thin dream.
too vast to be a wisp
of my unguarded heart...
but too Human to be
a reflection of my wishful
thoughts.

It is deep like the knives
descend and sink, into the brevity
of our get along.
it trolls the wound of our endless
Unforgiving-
and dooms the sweet spark
of our forgiving
Yes.

Because it's all wrong.