Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Arachne Tryptic


Arachne has been wringing blood out of the boy-now-man I love.
It's enough to make me wish for things like
golden morning light, I would like to submerge him
even for a moment

in some warm atmospheric sweetness

that could sink low from the heathen

and soothe those wracks here on Earth.

The day before yesterday, as I walked on the street, I was a vision of myself old.


Out, out, damned wild fear of failure
out, out damned wild fear of loss

I'm afraid of missing the boat
I'm afraid this man doesn't want me each morning with breakfast,

doesn't want me each night in his bed-

And I fear I make love to abstract mythos
because reasons,
because reasons...

I really do love you though.
And losing you would efface my goodness like bleach.
And losing you would punch me in the chest.

I wish I could find Arachne and reason with her,
the cold logic of intellectual superiority, dumb cunt

keep her fickle blades away from my tenuous partner

is it crazy that I can't stop thinking about the way he said
and the way he said


I am experiencing some discomfort in your absence,

My desire to know everything wins.

If you really want me that bad
put your fingers in my

if you really want me that bad
put your eyes in my

live your life in my

give me each brief knuckle no holds barred
give me each bone without conditions

especially that one that one is my favorite one
I choose that one for particular

bouts of percussive instrumentation

I choose that one to sharpen up these canines

I collect radioactive rain in the hollows of
your sternum

I almost think god thought of me
when they, musing, made your body

built it out of chalky dust, fish from lakes,
it's like I say all your blood is busy
keeping your marrow warm

and your hands are cold as a tree in the night

on my belly

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