We cannot read the blackened signs ahead
and the fever driven snakes lick the bags below our eyes
and smile with their tongues darting past our lashes.
This is a back porch romance as we are sidewalk lovers,
like two kids in a stairwell.
We haunt hollow towns and abandoned alleys like
tree house virginity thieves on a rampage.
Like a command from the gods one hand is raised to signal
the coming cardinal acts of war as we fuck with our teeth,
tearing at the fabric of lust while the cushions get some color.
This is sliver-cock swashing back-throat curling reality.
I awoke as a 9 year old covered in sidewalk chalk, my mom
staring down at me arms folded and impatient had but one thing to say.
"The fuck have you been?"

12/08/2009