| She’s Ms Loves dirt for diamonds
|
| Gargles spiders
|
| Stops time, then steals lipstick
|
| Tonight she’ll light one hundred cannons off one cigarette
|
| She’s fast like snapping gun guts, cold like cellar’s bare foot
|
| Then: the kind of woman you could love walks in:
|
| She circles her
|
| Beauty marks with the wet end of a blue pen
|
| Staring softly through the high school play props and postcard parts of grown
|
| men
|
| She knows we jerk off to the daughters of the world
|
| She’s all that’s beautiful and opposite sad music
|
| Running through fields, in soft focus towards each other
|
| And yet you. |
| You boy you. |
| You boy you
|
| She was so black hold. |
| So black hole in a china shop
|
| She’s Ms Loves dirt for diamonds
|
| Gargles spiders
|
| Stops time, then steals lipstick
|
| Tonight she’ll light one hundred cannons off one cigarette
|
| She’s fast like snapping gun guts, cold like cellar’s bare foot
|
| Now, she climbs the girth
|
| Of one small stone step somewhere
|
| Screaming vaginal sabotage in the sun
|
| To the purse of loosely pinched flesh
|
| Between the pit formed by her upper arm chest and top adjoining
|
| There, you were
|
| You were boy with all the walls
|
| And so she took her sugar elsewhere
|
| Whilst you shuffle with enlightment to date
|
| She left you for the undertakes and his sensitive side
|
| He’d say:
|
| Baby morgues are people too
|
| And I. And I. And I
|
| After all, dear I love you
|
| And I. And I. And I
|
| Love you; |
| He is so
|
| I. I. I love you; |
| He is so
|
| When you open your mouth
|
| She removes her gloves
|
| And the sea pours mighty
|
| From her hollowed sleeves
|
| Until everything that is solved in
|
| Life now begins to float around your socked and soaking ankles
|
| Locks of semen
|
| Tiny spears of beard
|
| Clumps of baby teeth and even
|
| A few cut feet of umbilical ribbon
|
| Until you shut your eyes to
|
| Draw the gloves back onto her
|
| Gushing and half finished wrists
|
| She brings the deluge
|
| Tells you to bring nothing
|
| But a rafts rope between your teeth
|
| And some poem about yourself |