Majesty
for my companion
I taste the moon in the fluid of every mind.
I lap up moonlight from every eye roll.
Every eye is a mirror that asks me why
my heart is familiarly reflective.
I taste the moon in the fluid of every mind
because lunacy is a very succulent truth
to my own.
And I was drunk on my synapses when I saw you.
The moonlight died. It was a hard truth to know
you weren’t a lie.
Why so darling in every step?
Why so real in every word?
Why so vibrant under such a black sky?
The moonlight died. It was a hard truth to know
you would never be a lie.
And I thought I knew drunkenness before I saw you.
I did not know how new life could feel
before my mouth felt your neck
and I kissed my own pulse.
Please, let me linger
in the majesty of me and you
even after the moon is born anew.
Total Insanity
for someone like me
die a little
die with red entrail flowers
and pretty ribbons spun
from open bone marrow
die with crimson hair
like a flaming Ophelia
in the river of scarlet love
die with the perfect face
to be known by your death
die a little
and then a little more
Is Blood Like A Martyr? / When it flows down a gaping mouth and crucifies itself on the cavalry of eternal starvation / is it offering Martyrdom? / Is it martyr-like to live for necessity / is it my Necessity? / is blood like a martyr? / can martyrdom be ecstasy?
Die a little more
And get up from the grave
That never existed.
Why don’t you die? father says death is willful and meaningless and the meaning is under the corpse’s skin is the corpse my teeth is the skin my stomach am I killing myself into bliss or oblivion or are they the same why don’t you die why don’t you die why don’t you die
die a little more
and get up from The Grave
that Never Existed
DON’T WRITE ME A EULOGY
please
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