String me up
from your heart of glass
((you always manage to));
My weightless wonder
grows old in your contempt
and i am tiptoeing across you
with gloved fingers,
tracing over you gently
((wouldn't want to break you)).

But you're never as gentle
and my mind is filled
with visions of the last time
you worked your magic,
scooped my heart out
with a stainless steel spoon,
cut my tongue
on your knife's edge.

And there's an asymmetrical chest cavity
cloaked in your reflection...

My lungs are brimming
with my own blood -
i'm drowning in memories of you,
wondering when it will be time
for my next operation..

08/29/2003

Posted on 08/29/2003
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