Ash Wednesday

I have been fasting for you, juxtaposed next to stills of my life underwater (you drown me so deep, your love is in my lungs now). I did not know you were in my muscles too, fibers on your breath; eat me like Christ’s dinner (tear where my baby’s hands broke me down). There is no greater love than crucifixion, but before the cock crows thrice I will have forgotten your name (they know me in the streets, I am all over you like leprosy). Forget me in my tomb but I want you to look; I lay out linens for rolling stones (I blind with light and am already back on the road).

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I Sleep Forever

Put us down in black and white, photobooth press kits, porcelain, procedure and proper pose painted on. These wires in my fingers fit so well around my own neck, your eyes are so talented at lying, words I say are wasted so you want not. Alone on the floor (fox trot) but I remember this moment with bells on (soft spot) and a keenness for alarming dissonance (I’m a hawk). Don’t explain, intestines have brain tissue too and the value we put into publicity is expressive enough for what you just lost.

Recycling

You are burgundy, I am in bloom. I want to turn these glass pieces into a mosaic, my breath in between the tiles, our blood on the corners, your lips on mine, our intentions nowhere to be seen. I imagine you, is that what you want to hear? I am restive, you are rage. Your voice in stereo, lilting; my voice like bass, boom in your heart. Wrap my fingers in twine, I just want to remember what it’s like to be so needed, so physically close that I cannot move without waking you from another room in the house. When I sweat out , up from the ground, I want you to kiss my neck, when I cry out oceans I want you to touch my roots and say, “In five years this will not matter, I will not matter, we will all be gone from this place.” Your smile brings this all back.

Chin.

I fell out of love with your chin first, sitting in bed on a Friday with a dry throat, metal displays and smirks like sawdust. Saw how you tried to posture, shoulders out, hair like you forgot why we cut it off in the first place. Forgot every struggle we had, over your chin, your thighs, how I thought you were beautiful and you did not. I thought you were beautiful and you did not. I thought you were beautiful and you did not know how to think that. You think you are beautiful but now I know not.  I remember how you skin feels still after all this time.