We're always touching something softer than ourselves,
as the velvet wolves peek into our black rooms and over our shoulders
intrigued.
Lick the sweat off the floorboards and sliver
closer to me as the black oil paint rains down
on our bodies.
Show me your fuckin' teeth, my sweet.
Glisten in the wake of this everlasting nothing
and rot with me till the birds find us dear.


Ripping the skin from her body
and hanging it out on the line to dry
I remembered her first words to me that
seemed almost deceitful now.

"I can't stay long."

11/13/2009