Through your hollowed words
the wind plays melancholy melodies.
While seasons shift and change the times
your tune still drips it's rhythm in my ear.

The chill still gnashes lockjawed, but
your artificial comfort still contains the sweetest remedy,
while all around the elemental argument
proves valiant-- inflames in its intensity.

The lukewarmth of your monotone
will take me from the dryness hanging
stagnant in the air

So take your pleasure while you may
'Fore hands and feet forget what loving feels like.
Do make haste in taking what you wish from deadened veins
for now the blood in them is parched and powder
useless in the vessels corded through my paler skins.

And here it seems with queerest grace
the coming clouds descended on my form.

It's made us starfish through this winter's tides,
so desperately cohering little fleshes to the granite,
we are now in hopes that beating,
beating, beating,
lacks the potent drive
to sway small beauties far from nature's
(Darwin's) chosen purpose.

Could you maybe take me with you?
Broken bones to make a bed with
crystal-crunched and snowflaked reminiscence
sweet to line your pillow,
so that rest can come the swiftest to your side and so
you'll not dream of my obvious well being-
nor persuade yourself to think you've gained the lead
against my saddened retribution.

Or
much better still,
make bold the pulsing through your haughty bosom--
chance the stranger course.

I'll swallow top and tail
this daft, capricious pill and have
your cherished name course through the linings
of my peccant passion-shriveled gut
if only so when time is ripe
I'd relish in the vomiting
of your corroded sense of dead "I Do."

12/01/2003

Posted on 12/02/2003
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