curl here against me.
it’s grey today,
cold outside the covers
colder still
outside in the land of bricks and mortar
so stay here with me
slip my panties down
and fit the length of your prick
up the crack of my ass
while I pull our arms together
around my ribs, up under my breasts
where they belong
when the day is cold
and the world is grey
stay with me
kiss me here
with your mouth
your soft wet mouth
your tongue:
put it here
then here
now here
i need your fingers
your body
your skin
on me, over me, around me
don’t ever forget to touch me
please don’t ever forget
i remember your mouth
its full swell of lip
almost a girl’s
and oh those kisses
those whole grain kisses
lacing
my blue, blue ruin.
and oh the rythms
the casual rhythms of your tongue
sharpening, sharpening my body
and later the white whispers
that
unraveled
a brittle, brittle silence
i remember your mouth
pressed soft
pressed cool
pressed mute
against my neck
when the poetry was gone
she is your flower child
your woman-girl
an unwritten sonnet, yet every word in place
the melodia always at the back of your throat
a slip of memory
tucked forever into a corner of your soon-weathered heart
there to unfold
again and again and again.
and you will remember this vixen-child:
her flowing hair, her open flesh
the rose promise of her pink-hued nipples
the tangled flourish of her saporous cunt
you will remember:
her generous desire, her unfettered need, her transparent flame
all of this offered to you
all of this gathered for you
from the chagrined pleats
of your mothers’ ferrous skirts
of your fathers’ flannel suits.
before too long the years will shift
clumsy and dumb, they will take you with them
you don’t even know it
you shouldn’t even know it
she won’t let you know it, at least not yet
so be with her now, in this moment of this night
in this moment of this night that will last forever
because it is all that matters
because it will always matter
mount her, take her, fuck her, love her
forget yourself in her soap-scented yearning
remember yourself in her wide-open giving
save yourself in the clasp of her legs, the press of her breasts
she is your flower child
and you will remember
because she is writing herself onto your heart
i remember
the smell of the hair on your arms, your chest
the way you called me baby
over and over
whispering it:
into my ear
through my hair
against the curve of my hip, the flesh of my thigh
and how it made me crazy hot
even though i don’t like being called that
i think about how soft your lips were
on my mouth, and then my clit
the way you looked in my eyes when you fucked me
how i came so hard i got a stitch in my side
everytime i see you
i remember
when i look at you
mostly, i know you love me
and mostly, that’s enough.
but i can’t see you now
and i’m not so sure anymore
alone
am i forgotten
do i
(sometimes)
walk
in your dreams
does your cheek
(perhaps)
imagine
my soft breasts
do the
cobwebs of me
(remember)
cling
to your heart
can you
smell
(surrender)
me on your pillow
does my
taste
(here)
sleep
upon your lips
does my
smile
(there)
wet
your distant eyes
can i
do you
were we
(then)
When death, reckless and brutal,
carved you from my quiet skin
I hid the grisly remains
beneath a neatly starched uniform.
Slowly, my deranged figure healed
and routine rhythms carried me from you.
I watched your hunch shadow creep away,
got drunk and danced naked in the dark.
In my new life and new clothes
I was beautiful, but my ribs were thin.
So I shoved rocks up my dress
and switched my shade of lipstick.
Last night the ragman came
but I know a wolf when I see one.
Trembling and panting, I ran into the alley
where my shoes were filled with sand.
I took off my blouse and beheld:
that the rocks were gone: my flesh
was warm and pink and full.
You had returned to fill out my body.
Smearing the lipstick from my mouth
I stepped from my skirt into the streetlamp’s light.
Then spread my fat thighs wide
….and was born.
someday
i will come for you
and we will go
away
those left behind
will talk about us
our callous hearts
our selfish desire
fugitives, we will fuck
our way free of them
while fucking them over
fucking convention
fucking expectation
fucking our hearts out
like they knew we would
like the said we would
fucking will be
our new religion
you cock will be my communion
my cunt will be your baptism
and we will be happy
like they knew we wouldn’t
like the said we wouldn’t
