Your eyes cut deep, cold until they turn to me
Your biceps are tender and warm like the sun.
You show me only a little affection and I am in love
I start writing songs.
Just after you touch me once.
I forgot my other passions.
You shine lighter than the moon.
You say that I smell sweet.
I say I hate sweet things:
Sweetness is a sour salve
For Sugar makes you saneless
You only desire more
Of the thing that caused the sore.
So you say to me- should I treat you poorly?
And handle you more rough?
But can’t you treat me kindly?
But still love me like I’m tough?
My poems are obscured like fantasy films.
My brain is like a theremin
Unwavering, unsure.
Traversing strange frequencies with invisible energy that turns the strings like eerie quartal harmonies.
You were tender once.
Now take me in your arms.
Be colder to me And more will I fall for you.
The more I should face away.
Depersonalized identity
Alienated from my heart
My coquettish fantasies may be tearing me apart.
But how lovely is the way your eyes meet mine across the crowded streets
And how much I want you to hold me more
The less you hold of me.
Flamboyn trees, striped print cloths
Vibrant and unsure
Graffiti graced upon the walls of every streetlamp, shop and door
Board up the windows of my heart
Turn off the coldness of my self
that desires an’ designs my own destructive destiny.
Even my poems are blurred
And my songs are stranger still
The more I know,
The less I know
And my head becomes faded like the paint in old san juan,
rusted by rain
The window panes
They take the impact and the heat
But still with soft subtle colors, tired greet the vagrants
Laced in a belied sweet.
I know that I am only one of the eyes you should glean
So fill me with whatever would satiate you
For my starving lips would drink
Kumquat juice or quepas lemon lime or stranger Tragos still
Push me into the darkness of the lunar light
When I am sweating,
Take ice to my lips
Take teeth to my soul
Just love me roughly,
Just love me whole
For a moment then leave me
With the memory of you
Inscribed in my poems
Are my inhibitions imbued
Tone painting my promiscuity
and idiocy in asymmetric rhythmic hues.
Lonely are the lilies without the love of the grass or lakes. Sullen is the flame tree with none to witness it’s array. I grasp at gossamer threads for love. I seek solace from sullen songs.
Yet, all I know of love is what I know of loss.
Sometimes I wish to die.
For all I desire now is not what I once did-
To live.
Not the music, the poems, the rhymes, or my soul
But fleeting unfulfilling loves-
What pain I must have known
In some past life of old-
For the only thread of logic left
My only reason to stay strong
Is the loves I meet out on the street
For a moment and then they’re gone.
Let my lover love me harshly.
For I need your poison like we all know air
Whether it be
Polluted or impure
Sometimes I dream of swimming until I fall asleep
Until my blood doesn’t bleed through my pores
And I start to fall into my dreams
I no longer mind the pain that you require of me
To bleed
I just need love to breathe
Or maybe just to sleep.
For I no longer wish to be.
And this I call into blind grief
Hoping that in this forlorn street
A passageay my heart conceives
To find love in loveless means.