If I could, I’d waste these fields with a single blow,
as I would sow over your thighs,
as I would kiss the wire nested though your heart.
Someday, I should tear words from the olive tree
make me some oil from the echoes of black keys.
At some point, lost in the season of drought.
I’d rather be caught bathed in souls over fields of zeroes,
rather break down by the water than die on parched land.
Bathe soul after soul on a tinfoil rack,
and blind them in lavender white,
juicing the high noon for reddened cheeks
menstruating milk over sunken teats.
Myself, capable as I am…
Should be crying over the tears you discarded.
Tie them up in a rag wide
enough to hold the world in
to scream them back out in spurts of demagogy
to melt the icecaps with kinetic disgrace.
Adrift in beheaded forests,
injecting some ideas in a burnt barn.
Why don’t you pull at the corners of my mouth, woman?
Tear some chuckles out of me, make my breath last?
Let’s be losers, together,
lose ourselves in the dark.
Breaking Waters
within you.
Slip in the sand.
as I would sow over your thighs,
as I would kiss the wire nested though your heart.
Someday, I should tear words from the olive tree
make me some oil from the echoes of black keys.
At some point, lost in the season of drought.
I’d rather be caught bathed in souls over fields of zeroes,
rather break down by the water than die on parched land.
Bathe soul after soul on a tinfoil rack,
and blind them in lavender white,
juicing the high noon for reddened cheeks
menstruating milk over sunken teats.
Myself, capable as I am…
Should be crying over the tears you discarded.
Tie them up in a rag wide
enough to hold the world in
to scream them back out in spurts of demagogy
to melt the icecaps with kinetic disgrace.
Adrift in beheaded forests,
injecting some ideas in a burnt barn.
Why don’t you pull at the corners of my mouth, woman?
Tear some chuckles out of me, make my breath last?
Let’s be losers, together,
lose ourselves in the dark.
Breaking Waters
within you.
Slip in the sand.
