I want to form a trapezoid with our legs
and crush lemons and strawberries
between our toes-
lick off each film of blistering taste, until we turn to dust.
I want to see you in sepia, in slate, in pearl-
shuffling your steps towards pressed elation.
I want to corrupt and debase every tangled
misword against your temperate name.
Flush them down the sink,
along with the toothpaste and of course
your self-reproach.
In the high of your chafed scowlings,
I want to let you keep my sedulous adulation.

you know
We could be electric, rhythmic, elliptical.
If you let us.

You used to ease through my mind like pornography, grabbing hold of every moral thought and fucking them, slowly and painlessly. You moved like music, your skin, my skin, perfection.

It was early morning sex, afternoon sex, after-supper sex, midnight sex; if my body was not promiscuous, my mind sure as hell was. You were my drug, my remedy. Speak little of rehab. You were my rehab.

And then, I met you. I was not aware of your actual bona fide existence, but I did not deny you for a second. You, surreal, I, tangible.

I lied to myself, I persuaded myself into believing that I did not know you, but I knew you, for you- you could not be forgotten. Your words caressed my thoughts, black and white poetry mixed with late night cappuccinos.

Skeleton, that’s what you were. I learned your core, though you had no face. I knew every bone in your body, had made love to your soul; yet I had never stood before you physically.

But I knew it was you. I could recognise you from miles away, if even you were caped, masked and hooded. Your heartbeat is one with mine, does that make any sense to you?

(These eyes have never seen a today; they are my lungs. They see darkness eternally, and until they are able to respire they shall keep living in tomorrow.)

Friday night my throat was anhydrous, my lips desiccant from craving your cloying kiss, buzz, buzz. I hope you are not toying with my emotions; I could sit here all day and take you in. I’m biting down on my lip, chewing on my finger nails, waiting for my euphoric symphony.

This is my shaded ecstasy, hypnotized in your cerulean magic star-shot eyes. When I closed my eyes, I let you slide into my mind. You crawled in on unspeaking cat feet, and all night you hear tossing and turning, bed sheets rustling. A girl in an empty bed….Over the distance as the sun rises there’s a brittle truth awakening, or so she thought, only she was just lying to herself just the way she always does, so then it wasn’t really the truth, was it?

Like butterfly stained bird wings, you bring chimera reflected heart-rending light into my life. I hallucinated you were here; you stood beside me and let me hold your beautiful hand. This is my artificial reverie, I’m screaming utopia, take me to your rainbow air castle; we will sip emerald and diamonds and smash mouths under the forlorn palm trees.

Just when everything is sinking, your prismatic polychromatic words tickle the back of my neck ((like frisson)). Like only the blessed may be so lucrative to feel. I do dare to unbolt my heart and I pray you won’t let me go and shatter me like the others with their revolting feign emotions.

I’m dreaming that you will one day evaporate into my soul, she called us soul mates, she did. I laughed and pushed her aside, but in secret there are drums beating inside of me; the rhythm is solid oak on fire, complexly diverse and significantly amusing to every inch of my aching body.

I’m going to close my eyes, and breathe in this new world. I know I’m infringing every strand of rope I’ve ever believed was tied around my jaded hands, but this is because you have been clichéd, my dear sweet penny.

You left me at the altar and I stood there, and everyone stared at me, but it’s going to be alright because you’ve been replaced and I forget what your voice sounds like. I never liked your voice anyways.

Sun-dried like the tears that once fell upon your cheek, clandestine and surreptitious you let me stir myself into you, and you know you’re enjoying the attention, only I never told you so how did you know? You spit back a tango of the maw and only it’s like rain spitting on the sidewalk, the kind that seems brutal but is ever so dainty and trickles the tops of your ear, licking you gently as you stutter out guilty promises.

I’m wondering where it all begins and ends because I’ve strung everybody into my web of honesty and sometimes, defamation and lies too. Don’t try to understand, it’s impossible. You know you still love me.