Your voice, words written with a cigarette,
love overcome with character,
my secrets on cassette tape - you probably noticed.
The dance, lights low, a strange dream
green with ambient sound - I'm so bored.
You could drive off,
rear brake lights into a
soft tune, intimately plain.
But no; tell me what you noticed.
Let me tell you about this room,
this music, the emotions I don't believe.
I'm going to teach you a lesson now
about empty footsteps and
keys to the night.
I know you saw something
out of frame, a damaged moment.
Say something about this,
the metabolism of silence,
visible momentum.
I heard you in the corner,
heavy perfume,
speaking weak, pale,
lying to establish your composure.
Spin loud, protecting your face.
I know this is gonna hurt you.
Hands white-knuckled,
I've got to write myself
an ecstatic state,
fists stunned into a poem.
Clench the brightening aspiration;
the path has its limits,
slips back sometimes.
My patience is minor, my hurt clear,
only tolerant of need when
there is a second beauty
to its eye.
There's no need to come back
after this.
Your truth, invisible;
I am obligated to contain
the nature of fire,
rebellion established
within a bow:
may the Lord make us
truly thankful
for what we are
about to become.
Across the table
knife taps glass.
Our own structure
undeterred, necessary fact
surrounding the bounds of
silence, golden eyes.
We become quieter
when taken in many ways.
My dear friend:
that smile,
your face,
little performance a
murdered coincidence.
I asked you not to go back;
I was sad. You were lost
years ago. A stunt, I'm assuming.
Disturb en masse;
money wouldn't have done anything.
We decided brutally, suddenly,
scrubbing at evacuation.
You were close but cold, mocking
what I happened to mention.
Her tongue,
the pill,
a glass of water: swallows.
Sedated, the bedroom embrace:
try not to upset her.
Arms, slowly comforting,
clutch down at the hands.
Eyes unfocused: vision.
My baby, my baby.
Screams won't stop;
release, a way to calm her,
pull away.
Vain struggles.
The sound is monstrous.
Hunting in the land of
slow burns we found
a dark room, blind pulled.
Are you sure the limit dwells there?
The reaches of a robe, subdued grounds.
To disturb the confidentiality, the reaction
off a silver arrow, patient in its story.
Sorry to disturb this.
I understand the question now.
