the insects stutter. loud remedies. to cure this nothing. her zipper sticks. caught on the distance between. perilous Edens. the stalk of paradise. like elements. stiff with oxygen. the brevity of choice. scratches on the door. claws in the couch. like we are alone here. divided by the amity of time. gingerbread houses and candy cane curtains. spoiling their path. choking on the flames. inheriting the murders. old women and liars. sick with open bridges. that never let us cross.
it's tomorrow and I barely know it. it's tomorrow like the claws on her back. the world whispers. loud enough for her to hear. nothing is gentle. the lies have their stories. everything is sharp. she cuts herself on the beginnings. and is fine to continue bleeding.
she doesn't have numbers. isn't aware of the plateau. the storm sneaks in quietly. disappears just as impotent. loudly silent.
It's not like sight ever mattered. it's not as though the blind were listening. even when it was all that we had. taste the weakness. surrender to the notion. the parity of lost. the enormous freedom that follows surrender. feed the jackals. pet the wolves. a little blood. a little meat. happiness is a carnivore. a cannibal.
know. that the desert forgets us. nature is feeble. the chemical is superior.
let me find you. stiff jeans. perforated veins. let the butterfly beat its wings. let the storm decide. how dark it will be.
Sunday
9/02/2012 01:02:00 AM
| Life Poems |