I crave the company
although its like a piece of floss
that I wrench too far
into that pinky flesh
to cry something red
and wet.
I crave the intimacy
though my wrists yank at the ropes
pleasure is close to pain
metal rain falls in my mouth
nail into the gum
filet the skin.
A gaping mouth of trout
cries his only cry
silently on rocky banks
of a roaring river
freshly running salvation
in his very eardrum
no limbs to make it
there.
I wake up with it in my mouth
it’s thick with morning dew
and greets me like a goblin
empty bed
Groundhog Day in my closet
taunts me
silver rain taps morse code into my dreams
to keep me from my
fantasies.
I pick at old scars
while I pray for them to heal
God sighs.
If I had a locket it would
bear a thousand faces
if you knew how much I need you
your hair’d turn white
aghast
and already tired
of me.