Face up to the wall
we had some things in common
difficult to use words for.
Seagulls are a lot bigger
inches from a face.
Feathers large enough to wear
in a headdress
when inclined.
Shot up,
you said we would hang out
clean.
I said we would not
fuck.
Things change.
Did you see the sun off to bed
over the hills? How it lit up the clouds and
bounced light back against the scales
of a rouge wave of oxygen and
lit it on fire until there was nothing
else to burn. How it caved in
on itself in damped motion
like a hundred story building collapsing?
A throat slashed leviathan, gases spewing
flame touched across the sky
while it died? You called me goth and I called you.
Romance of the two kingdoms.
Lines in sand and I am telling you:
stay out of my garden.
If I ever catch you
in arms reach
smelling my flowers,
it will be
last times.
I love you. And
I love me more. And
I love you. Will you
see me again? Now
that I know
the kinds of cookies you like to eat
before you have dinner
standing up
will you forgive me for flinching
before the backhand swipe of a blade
having felt the first?
