Theater of Sorrows

Incision

Come here, where we’ve ceased into nameless shadows
Come smolder, drown in the depths of this orgasmic pain
Inhale all of our sorrow through your flowering eyes –
Like vines creeping up my skin, choking, suffocating my sanguine symmetry
Let your thorny fingers scrape ravines in me
Wounds to bleed waterfalls, that
Feed your naked scars with my lusty ink
Make your incision count
Choose your favorite damage from this graveyard of fractured hues
Puncture my skin with howling needles spitting times burning bridges –
Dangling watches over crevices of fatalism
Your shadow walking right through mine
As if yesterdays answers were tomorrows hypocrisies
You’ve got the moon dying, falling through the sun in a blistering travesty –
Two ancient beings colliding in a chaotic, heartbreaking symphony
Of lost, hopeless, gauzy dreams
That I’d wrap around you –
Your angelic face and beautiful tempestuous warrior eyes
Come lay, next to our blooming weeds
Our gardens weeping iridescent memories
Two hearts wrapped in poetic tragedy and floating ribbons of smoky regret

Before the moon fell into the cemetery –
The stars spelled out our story
Waiting for you to write it during twilights crushing, somber sufferings
But the pages never spoke the words
Indecision reaps embattled souls
Misconstrued offerings burning on the altar for the wolves to lick
Fur, saliva and blood and bone
Come suffer, here in the cavern of our porcelain existence
Bury the ruptures beneath the stones
Warm yourself dancing in the cleansing fire
Until the words weep from your fingertips –
Hemorrhage from your eyes
Evaporate from your skin
Hurl from your soul

Catch the sun before it eats itself
Curls your skin like papyrus etched with phantom doctrines
A foolish mans journey down the hall of hollow mirrors
Come sleep, beneath my lovers lashes
Eyes peeking through their forest at your damaged riddles
Longing for celestial questions
To silence the silence

To bring our shadows home

Map of Woe

Oh, so you want to mold me into your version
Pin here, tuck there, cut and slice, stitch and staple…
Rake those nails over my skin to form legend and compass, title and scale –
A map that creates me in your image
Like warm comfort swirling in that coffee cup, which you clutch with wrinkled claws
Cherub liquid, caramel, burns smooth and strong, my, my, my
As it passes between your omissive lips…
Aren’t those tremors from a fault line?
Deep within your chambers full of withdrawal landmines?
As it passes between your dismissive lips…
My anguish is not your season –
Not your reason, fashion, flame or passion
So you peel the irises from my pain-petaled eyes
Attempt to kill my shadow that occults your sun
Unsoiled, unspoiled, soft-boiled is your narrative for grief
Stingy heart, superficial arms, machine mind embracing obscure, superficial tripe-
Send it to Wonderland in a backward lettered envelope, scented with relief
Oh the strange, unsightly spores
Tunneled deep into the moon
Even she…
Grief is much less trendy in June
Doesn’t meet your complications
March your mind, steer your eyes, set the tone according to strict regulations
Where’s that damn rabbit?
He’s sure taking his time
I suppose it’s all in the mechanics, not the rhythm or the rhyme…
The questions he’s posing, pomegranate letters dripping down his sign…
Unfair expectations swarm a grief-laden sky
Pick a petal, make a wish, pick a petal, make a wish –
I’ll wake up? I’ll not wake up? I’ll wake up?…
Deaths appearance has led me into this stark forest of confusion
Is it acceptable to mourn the lost when a bad circumstance was of their making?
I hide my grief
I hang my head
I am a sliver of a shadow wandering through this bleak, grey desert –
No sun, no rain, no wind, no fire, no spirit, no direction
I’m ripe with secrets; Can I tell you?
The empathy is fading from your eyes with every next word that I share
Conclusion flaring fast, hard flames licking
As if the poor choice made the person –
And so I’d rather sleep with my despair
Get your compass, get your ruler, change my title and direction
Add citations, altitude and border; Shape me into your scene of a faultless disorder
I’ve always loved the dark, with its edgy, unkempt eyes
It’s made me a breathless lover, running my fingers along its thighs
It sings and it lulls and I long to roam
But here, now, this wildest woe that webs –
I wish I could find the moon
So that her light could lead me home

Toxic

Plump lips suck the toxic from bones
Suck the chill from tarnished air
Thaw it with expelled contortions that reverberate
Off of stained-glass membranes within lost epochs
Wrapping us in saturated dreamscapes
Beneath moody, melancholy arches of beautiful, dusty blues and greys

Unless

– Written in different passages –

Where

Slumber does not caress every crumbling tomb
Nightmares become death dream-circles
Unending, haunting plights in the afterlife
The inbetween where the lifeless live
Puppet bones with empty eyes, dancing to an unseen conductor
Paying tolls in backward circles that collide with eternity…

Plump lips suck the velvety, muted decay
Like it’s a romantic violet embryo in shades of ruffled, spongy lust –
Cemented to dementia hearts, choking from barbed wire tourniquets
You wear a disheveled crown of poetic solitude
Siphoned from the rusty, wretched gears others have welded to their bones…
You pull pistons with pen, coil torque with tongue, until it snaps
Slice air with fermented, soiled tears, sliding like worm trails down a recycled smile
Beneath a frosty sunset as scorching, sultry orange withers to sage –
Hovers over shadows and mottled statues that guard the institute of blue clarity –
Its mental steps leading to your grim spirit
Where every dense atrocity is encrusted with prickly, inflamed spines –
Bristly molecules that need a solvent before their debris dusts the fields with psychosis
What possessed the universe to unleash your brutal beauty into my emptiness?
What possessed me to string your thorns into a necklace –
That I adorn with my tender throat?
What possessed fire to dance between us?
I toss my hair beyond the reach
I don’t care about naked judgments from clothed strangers

Plump lips suck the rancid juice from the feast –
The blackened silt from terracotta twilights heart
Tongue sliding slow and cool up a lustless spine
Between each rough vertebrae it licks at the stars
Stroking their bliss into erratic vapours of ambrosial tendrils
Blooms that decorate the darkness with euphoric circadian residue
The moon salivates with each gushed, throaty breath
Time divides between fate and fallacy
Severing false tongues with razor sharp incisors
And we become a constellation of our own –
In the midnight sky
We unfurl among star births
Flowering, lacy love amid silver-passion explosions
Cocoons of hidden clouds forming lush, diaphanous, watercolor candy
That we glide through on our way to a mystical harvest of marigolds and wormwood
Rendering a celestial bridge to the unknown
And a louche of the perfect tint
Milky sweet

Plump lips feasting on divine, luscious madness