Ice cube melts
Thank you crystal core for lasting
Petrified
As we watch
Your fluids scald your sides
I’m sweating too
Feel us
Let us soothe each other
And maybe slip into something more supple
In the hope of frosting over.
You had all the words,
As if that weren’t enough
You squeezed me once
Without asking.
Now you have my breath, too.
You have the white
I brought the red
So go ahead
And don’t bore me
With apathy but
Drive me to be
No wonder
I’m scared
When I hate you all
The air is still
I mean stale
Your effusive fuss
Bores through my brow
Numbly you pick my pink
I mean grey
As a matter of fact
It’s great
Like to forget
My sponge is wet
And let this
Cerebrospinal juice
Drain as I probe
A new lobe
You would think
This would hurt
I mean prick
For God’s sake
An ice-pick!
Now my chest
Is the only one
Who hugs me
He knows best
But he cheated
With the brain drain
Secreted
His embrace is too tight
as
He hates me
I am the
Third wheel
On this nervous little tandem.
I bow and hunch and stoop
And curl and twist and stretch
And push and crunch and cry
And try to let them be
Together without me
These bastards are
A good team
I mean bad
I mean dream
Thank God
I am their host
They are only
My friends
Hip hip.
Inhale.
And.
Hold.
Blast! A mega breath explodes.
An intercostal ballistic mishap
A billion bronchioli burst my bust but
Rasping rises a treat…
Caramel catarrh creeps
Like a little kiss to tease this tongue.
Heart in heat and saliva slips smooth
Remedy past a fickle tickle with a trickle
Of fresh wind
That trap of battle
Enemy snakes
Tell tales that rattle.
My soul is interred with silt
Casket crushed with this impotence
My mind effete with expression
Withered with this distance
My body is rotten with guilt
Decayed with innocence
My bones are weak with confession
And break without resistance
Kaleidescope of fear
Dropped in a hard place
Twisted to too hard
And broken
Colours
Stilled
Filled with new sharpness here
Empty, my new face
A membrane scarred
Unspoken
Colours
Killed
Pilled and still feeling queer
Rough rest round this race
Caught me off guard
Awoken
Colours
Spilled
My candle hurls a shadow to the top
Of my Saharan ceiling. I marvel
At an anxious cerosus eclipse who
Quivers at the thought of her distant source
A brilliant tongue can disguise terror
But feeds on soul blood molten life bud our
Bodies burn and flesh drains dry claret boils
Residue blackens to ash solar death
Mother screams and father cries tears of pain
Children’s corpses already hung to dry.
We will not speak the word.
You who speak the word shall
be shunned and exiled for
having crossed into a
world without beauty or
brilliance.
Your dead truth means nothing
to me, or to others.
Those of us with restraint
will revel in our hope
that you resigned when you
opened it.
This is you then
Not much to see
You don’t like men
Much less like me
Subficial inholdings diamorph one syllable
This is you now
We’ve seen too much
Of what you allow
These men to touch
SJVB 