I know I can forgive you
as that iris laps in the view,
of a knife up to my throat.
Your eyes, in sweet loathing; afloat.
The red truth on rings,
frantic in my ears
soft as butterfly wings.
Soft as butterfly wings.

Your voice, so near me, an ocean away
crashing and foaming
cursing my life, begging I stay.

Curled, unsure fingers
beneath the dark of my hair,
shadowed and lingers.
The day so forgotten, the moment so there,
forgiven, unfair.
Felt like an animal, fighting be tame,
and your hand - domestication, clutching my veins.

Thought of the clementines you so cherished much
as juice dripped down your boyish arm,
on and on, until crimson pulp, to touch.

Pulls at twin cords,
cold, practiced fear and warmer words.
Same pulse along the jaw.
Familiar flush of jade stroked wings.
The end, hopeless and raw
and the feeling your name, on brings.

Through all spite and longing,
days of sun forever dawning
I get fluttering creatures
still as a hand so seizures.
Deep in place unknown
between belly and throat.
Under gruffest tone
and nights alone.
They will never wish a wing to know
the hurt of hidden bones.
How it come, ever slow.

Your taste, your say, your meaner things,
soft as butterfly wings.
Soft as butterfly wings.

The angst of pain
is so foolish gone
when blade of gruesome lust and flushing hate,
is in your hands.
So, at my heart, it stays.

I think I must have loved you
beneath the holly bush
Where red fire grew
and silver voices hushed.
I think I learned and knew and pined
a different form of word,
one which I was free to call you mine.
A whisper, still, you so heard.

Ever on, the things of sleep and fur all stirred.
For winter's numbing breath
was far past faith's deceit
of mere comfort, ease, and depth.
Beyond linen sheets and rosy cheeks
and you at peace with I.
So I sit through season's wistful sorrow
frost and birth's sweet lies.
To see the day bleakness says its last goodbye,
and you awake me a 'morrow.

Mouth to plum, bruised blue and black
it's always guilt, the wild eyes lack.
It's always pansies, blooming down my back
If you could ever think to love me - attack.
Feel my fingers, feel my nerves
boy,
relish my blindness, dampen my words.
Eat me alive,
I've forgotten what it is to die.
Forgotten how to bring my ****** lips to wine
and let you shove away the tears - I'm dry.
The beauty of petals, what do they serve,
to only dry and fall dead from a flower,
when the sun is not hers?

The devil stalked my boulevard,
in the days of summer's heat wave and cigar.
The times I forced my heart to beat so hard,
and risked it all, against your guard.
If I love over and over
what is fear but to stay sober?
To draw you closer on closer;
take my weakness and expose her.
You came with a name to keep reciting,
eyes of blue, igniting.
It's saintly to save
but we stay fighting.
Curl my long dress
right between your fists.
Catch my breath,
you breathe risk.
Oh, you did it again
you've done it all over again.
Washed under tides of sin.
What is pure? What is holy?
When there is you, and you only?
Blessedly, I am marred.
I try to forget, so fast, so hard.
Still, all the heavenly hues
become colorless in your muse.
By your mouth, I bruise.
Angel; corrupted, mine to lose.

i wonder how you feel
burgundy sweat upon your chin
when your hear the clink
of paper thin glass
in your ear
how do you hear
against intermost words, so crass?
am i so indistinct
when
daydream is your only meal?