the ideation

the more he hates the more i want to put him inside me
and keep him safe. a body sacrifice
to protect fleshy armourall better than red
it must be like putting on a coat i think
i want to make him better and i can't. i want to make him
something
and he smiles and he says
thank you.

it is not mine

i had thought momentarily his hands were
safe now not in war soft left on the side of
the road fleshy tears in kandahar a
consciencious objective of keeping
him alive because one two forgive him
they know it
not what they do.
but he does no good
making my decisions
or her's either
and i do know good
choosing to ignore it

the nights are long and cold alone
although a hearth is offered
he walks
on glass
shards and i
pick them up
ripping at my flesh behind four paces
wondering why the lesson never sinks
and the boy picked has jesus's
body
herod's
eyes
though he keeps putting
his fingers up my nose
laughing
and i see him cry
when he loses them
one by
one

the view

the fleet with 1500
square of wanting
it beautiful.
apiece and together usually craning
20 bodies moving in harmonious gargantuous
or something like that he said
his face was lines
sun gifted
throwing of tiles and catching trigonmetric
vodka soda beverages from every corner
of the heated body spaces
like school of piranha and a bloodletter's
art
turning card and smiling at the future kneeling
with open mouths tattooed on upper arm
so kindly a lean in and a whisper
pushed against the bathroom door
with sweat rolling between scapulae
between thrusts and
final balance
bougainvillea being glorious in appearance yet strangely
without scent
shafted
adeptly
govern////ance
a wristed bedposting and sky ballast upended
whirling fatality bludgeoned
so i scrawled a greeting on the man's bar tab
smiling
as i walked away
hoping to breakfast in the morning with a parisian tale
it's been 2 years
and a lot of water drunk since our last tete a tete
breathy
and a meeting of the mentor
like an old home bible opened
to the page of trilobites
and worthy clauses