Un coeur pourrissant

Words, like worms, crawl through the dirt of my mind,
As they try to define the reasons why,
On a warm-rain evening in the Spring
I am hiding from the light of your aching eyes.

You find no surprise in my confession,
Yet still the lurid litany drags on.
Until nothing now remains between us
Beyond bodies diving deep into their silence.

Our internal heat meets the loss of warmth;
A distance so vast in a space so small.
Mouldering lips twist to a tainted kiss,
as we watch our sickly flowers wilt & wither…

The words, like worms, have become disgusting to me.

So I abandon the form, I hate this poem!
because ugly words arrayed real pretty won’t change a fucking thing.

They wont make it easy, or let me return to the beginning:
& this still has to end somewhere;

lover, this had to end somehow….

Dreaming of You*

When the world reclaims you,
& I am left alone again
in my bedroom,

I will take your bloodstains
from the bedsheets & turn them
into roses…

Later, as I sleep surrounded
by the threads that fell from your skin,
I will dream

that each thread is a feather
of white, impossible
iridescence

& a breeze,
heavy with heat
will breathe from the window,

as one
by one, your feathers
fill my lungs…

* Dreaming of You – Cigarettes After Sex