(no subject)
these days these nights i don't sleep, i carve GLORY GLORY into sheets of plastic and when the sun starts to rise i take to the porch with my gym shorts and messy hair and smoke cigarettes for whoever won't walk by. the hours slip & the blade slips, the powder in piles & piles & i lay on the wooden floor bleeding out irreproachable. this vigil: if i had candles i could call it religious. i could wait for salvation. instead i spread synthetic and manic nose to the glass and wait wide-eyed for the full moon to collapse into the thin, thin scars of my mirror.
wash it down with wine, i was told, and by the time i'm at her door it's honeythick and i am all rounded corners through the hallways, whispers layers of kisses twisted sheets and all along my spine this first sleep hits hard as original sin: open wide. no other appetite. than ours; proof surfaces black&blue on the skin of my neck and she says i'm waiting for you to draw blood so i try and the night gasps and melts down slick between us. later i ask: are you awake and: when we move, can we take a steamship and she says yes, yes, and presses me sleepheavy, honeythick, into her side.
wash it down with wine, i was told, and by the time i'm at her door it's honeythick and i am all rounded corners through the hallways, whispers layers of kisses twisted sheets and all along my spine this first sleep hits hard as original sin: open wide. no other appetite. than ours; proof surfaces black&blue on the skin of my neck and she says i'm waiting for you to draw blood so i try and the night gasps and melts down slick between us. later i ask: are you awake and: when we move, can we take a steamship and she says yes, yes, and presses me sleepheavy, honeythick, into her side.