You cannot leave me
with the ropes you left
trailed across
the bed where you
loved me to exhaustion

You cannot leave me
with just the
thoughts of
wanting yet more
bonds restraining me

You cannot leave me
wanting such pain
as you gave to
me when you bound
me in your special way

You cannot leave me
needing cords to
hold me down
while you look at me
with  tender lust

You cannot leave me
with freedom I do
not want or need
unless you are here
to give me your restraint

You cannot leave me
free to crave
Your ropes
till you return
to tie me yet again

You cannot leave me until
I beg for you again
to force me to
be what I want to
be for you my love

Francesca Anderssen 2016

Discipline
has absolutely nothing to do with you
And everything to do with your tiny lords

We never knew it

If you called
the phone was ringing
on a line that led nowhere

The pain didn't shake itself
to frothing fury

We merely spilled
an accidental ant
infestation

Could be ordered
by dripping maple syrup
out of pocket

Certificate On Demand
<>< <>< <><
Well they are also being trawled
Trolled, rolled, and hashed
Backwards into oblivion

Forwards we march to the void
With no uniform but the one
you made us pay for

With every ability but the one to accept
a bit of discipline
A lashing of the tongue
A rolling of the eyes

These we claim as ekstatic
empyrean
and lofty

Base and
belonging

We have never had much of a chance
or survived

Making time is the one operation that
computers are incapable of doing accurately

The slow movements of tektonik
A bit of spatial dejazz
Combines slyruping away at our self-gnawing
ganymede
Diana
sysysus

There are Bacchantic poems
Earth is playing slower
and heavier with us

Then then there them
We decided deicide was old
hats and new sweaters
path-dependencies
Llavanderias and futbol
gols for 2016

never score again
if winning tastes like the defeat
of all desire
than massage me back into a fashion

I need a sauna
and 3 bathing attendants

The stars need less light from us
and more humble pie

The pour poor por que por que no?

Soliloquys of repitoires
He pulls out the demon-arm
To see if harm
Feels better than being alone.
His hearts at "home..."
He roams...
To feed...
Lion.
Poet.
Warrior.
We...
He has needs.

I have something to write,
but I'm falling deeper.
It sears in my chest
and keeps me up early.
I know what I want to say
but I hold my lips shut.
I know what I want to do
but I won't let my fingers move.
I guess if I don't write about it
it won't be true.
It won't be forever.
It won't be you.