Your graze of a look,
was all it took
for me to fall,
all hands and knees,
through the glass-lit floor.
Sinking through,
a thousand cuts.
Each wound a kiss,
each kiss a bruise,
a flailing fool
in an unlit pool.
Your embrace,
a diver’s belt
of plumbum grey,
swiftly suffocating,
your anaconda smile,
mongoose tight,
my will is yours,
my body breaks,
each limb a sun,
my shattered gaze,
black hole bright,
dissolves like honey,
falls syrup thick,
a lurid stain,
on an open book.
This house is a house full of sand.
It invades the cracks, inundates the crevices, infects the wrinkles of my skin.
Grinding, grinning, eroding everything, it touches.
Wood smooth, flesh raw,
a paradox of application.
Old fuck with red Kenny nose,
irradiated with alcohol veins,
thin grey hair margarine wet,
lantern-jawed and ugly.
Read MoreHis broad back
I follow, transfixed.
Staring at the deep black holes
that pock his crisscrossed neck,
mine deep and ancient.
When I was a child
my feet were made of straw.
I could look down at them and
pick holes in them, and through the skin
see the straw and dust,
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