1.
Demarcate single section of flesh with a dotted line; demarcate second section of flesh, on first skin’s level; mark off flesh sections on the ample roll of your lover’s half-slept sides. Skeletal hands, built simple; sheathe them in reams and reams of muscle; grace them with twifts of black hair, use them!—to unite the two states of specked, nighted flesh. In the haven, window’s yellow; unison, man’s hands, to act together woman’s...unfinished, be-crossed little haven.
2.
Hard nights; move a-crook, walking on elbows to reach the end-table—a cup loiters, had fallen at the wrapped bed’s corner. Sand in my hair, eyes gone sore from the in-flying light, a cetacean flown through the window—vast masses I felt against me—hair, sheltered smell, bitter waves of small smells, knuckling waves. Here are the brutes at rest, undone loops of cloth. A tiny foot athwart, from under a bolt of cloth; an armjoint fit to be slung, companion for my hard-ridden plug of neck. A little joy gone to ruin; an evening lost. A lamp, fallen into the province of dusk. Darkened dresser, drawers askance, cotton wailing out. Lo, I abrade, I bleed, lo...joy gone to ruin, dropping through the cracks in my fingers. (A cup of water now, gone to bead in the winding cracks of my fingers.)
3.
Sympathize, my dear, please step into these heels. Step into what shall be the sheathes of my feet, ready-made scabbards, further pusses to be forced. Sympathize with me. Chafe as I do. Clay clamped of a moment, then thrust fast into a flaming oven. Unglazed, flaking away at the sharpnesses. Ahhhhhh— the sharp parts, by some push, will keep pumping out for the cut. Clay feet, baked dry—put under the sway of a solid golden head. Chasten me, make me to vacate this rind; fists forward, now, place them on my feet. Fists forward now, my fond one: beat me.
-2002
