you've always known it to be there
would spoil you, indulge you most obligingly
never scold you
not a word except for “yes” and “no”
occasionally
you startle at the white glove
concealed by the
My dearest stranger
repudiate not my words
for lack of proper signature
nor impersonal
deem my reply
but mark it on your screen
as nothing of consequence.
blush I desire not
to notice thy
you
I wish
to see again
when sleep shall have
shrouded all romance
and fatigued your heart
shall barely throb
as I will wind
into a bow
long disavowed by the arrow
whose divorced white
Eviscerated of all memory
time strips the bandage
off the carcass
which holds
but the recollection
of the priestess\' eye
tempting the lid
off the sacred vessel
as her hand wipes hollow
the
yet another seizure
clinically bequests
my soul\'s incest
with every woman
foregrounded against
the hysteria of
a chromosome
which preys on
the stain of the eye
hungry to hear
the bout
the smothered fire
of worn out affairs
shoots a sooty speck
of ash
into the breezeless air
in an attempt to dissipate
the gasping effort
of finding the urn
-crawling, creeping,
women and children first
shouted the captain
magnanimously
lusting the immaculate harem
chanting sacrificial lullabies
groinlessly
as Noah stirred the boat
to the vortex
oblivious of the
it\'s behind you
following cumbrously
hiding your shoulder
from the stocking eye
piling up thoughts
to prepare your arms
for a hollow embrace.
it\'s behind me
bending my spine
exposing my
a common container
of plastic or glass or metal
to quench the thirst;
or an addict\'s redemption
the purpose of a vending machine
promptly summoning
from the bowles
of a mechanical god
the
a common container
of plastic or glass or metal
to quench the thirst;
or an addict\'s redemption
the purpose of a vending machine
promptly summoning
from the bowles
of a mechanical god
the
cigarette smoke curtains
a wrinkled corner of an eye
and every glance shadows
yet another word of good-bye.
thin fingers shred the curtain
to unveil stains of blue
like the ink that
fathers