i'll wound myself to have you
kiss my bruises;
i'll wound myself in hopes that you
will heal me.

when i'm mad
i imagine a gun to your head
and when i'm loving you
i imagine a gun to mine

i have dreamt of your spine
as a bone, blanketed by the flesh of your back
as you sleep under my sheets;
or as a wooden plank that i could
cleave with the power of my palm

violence is passion
and baby,
i could kill you
for not loving me.

02/20/2004

Posted on 02/20/2004
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