I owe this decimated mind a sabbath
Its lush landscape drenched in fire, scorched to the ground, nothing left but shocked shadows –
Wandering among the bones of ash that once were loves’ anatomy
Corpse flower pupils, dilated with unfinished memories… Breathe in… breathe out…
I have gone away, into a galaxy unfamiliar, this –
Nocturnal feast where stiffened-spine beasts gnash the stars between their teeth
Pop them open, so that they shoot sparks like firefly tentacles across that endless, velveteen sky
Where gothic, wing-ed creatures fly, and funnels swirl that swoop you and I to ill-seasoned tombs…
Ambivalent umbra
Silent, gyrating, unfamiliar repose between this world and the next
I close my eyes and inhale the stagnant air, longing for just one bittersweet scent of you
Even in this darkest hour
Hope is an artistry that thankfully, fertilely slips through combustible fractures
Unfurling, prowling the shadows, hellbent that there might be the smallest chance of alchemy
– At the discretion of angels and demons, of course –
Which births, at the very least, our own private language, between this damnable here…
And the cold, steely, unfathomable blue of there…
Your apparition
A visitation –
A dark, velvety thing, which swallows up the diaphanous moon
Skeletal remains of us – the bones of romance
Littering the sun-baked fields where crimson-petaled malice was sometimes in full bloom…
You were a vision I first saw in a sloshed wonderland –
Jackal with a raven’s wings, libation in an anointing cup
Drink it down until you spin, until the walls melt and it comes back up
Pulpit philosophizer with bent eyes, warrior’s armor fastened with 1,000 growling wounds
Morrison voice
In your own personal church, preaching a poet’s dictionary definitions
Tangled around warped, cement memories…
That burn is angry, boy –
Romanticizes dead relationships and dead dreams
And how deliverance demands a sacred sacrifice –
The reflection of love a myth in your starless eyes…
Temerarious deeds mangling each kiss
Charisma and apologies on your lips, along with the perverse
Your breath hot as you murmured against my mouth
– I’ll take your body and your mind, and make them worse… –
Blurry “accidents” that you were used to gathering –
Gravebound, to be buried beneath your prized angel trumpets, wrapped in omissions
Still, you penned a masterpiece; Intimate, lyrical memories painted in convenient, pretty poetics –
And, I’m in devil territory, dedicated to my own madness
Celestial fetish
Let me pretend that some desperate incantation is more than just an apparatus
Let me have just one divine intervention, one mellifluous, seraphic afterglow…
Your breath slithering along my flesh, as I lean into this tamarind womb –
A honeycomb; Part of it holding 13 East side cells filled with remorse, could-haves and should-haves…
I wouldn’t beg when you were here, but I’ll beg now if it will wake me from this cold, florescent fate
Unravel this surreal terrain that even Remedios couldn’t have foreseen –
Give me just one more second with you…
I’ll search in unexpected places –
Black witch moth hovers among discarded things; Your sign to me of resurrection?
Have you finally come to give me my goodbye?