you make it hard for me to love you : your neck lined with the red of years ago you make it uneasily the cotton of your covers spread across the bed to love you with my head pillow pressed and you undressed unmade my shoulders across all three four mattresses make it hard for i was cast in virginwhite with one long lily throat extended for a frown we light up so that i can find a thigh for you to rest your head you make it a pink cigarette that chews my thoughts mylove in sleep i undid it all in the dark i dreamt me up in a nightgown skirting my ankles as when we were younger than life was you make it a bruised blue cloud to love us when we dangle high from the dreaded dream the openness of their mouths above us that they could swallow me up i made myself small as a dormouse to fit in your breast pocket that one above your aorta i was trying to glimpse sleep when you made me see that i had never died before not in your palm like this not in the splay of six stranger thighs their nethers spread upwards to ether where their bones blessed distressed grabbed my ghost above you two now you have made it hard as the granite walls of home to love a held out hollowed hand such as yours is —
(05/03/2018)
YOU ARE READING
Have you seen the Lost Boys?
Poetryharking back to an earlier poem of mine: poor wendy -- all the heroines get left behind. but she was a darling after all. yes, i very much have tears in my eyes. and it shall be hard to see, and sometimes i won't want to, but i will go on looking an...
