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If I touch it only in the dark of night
maybe I can say (I lie) that it isn’t real,
that you aren’t (neveralways were) there
and your mouth is not a cavern into which I fall

over and over
because your wordskisses are cottonfuckingcandy dissolve, dissolve

not real

not real, not tangible like flesh, your flesh, not real, not the way I like to touch you
yourfaceyourhair.

You are a moon, a shining moon, way away in the night, far away and out of reach.
I look away, you burn bright, too bright then blind.

My feet like the earthsolid in the sunshine, away from the bright of the moon, or
the moon at midday like a phantom, imagined, it is not real, not real.

The darkness on my skin unwinds in me the serpentheatfleshseeking animal, animal that will

devour.

You don’t know the will in me that tiesbindsrestrains and keeps me from

devouring

yourskin and making youyourbody

mine.


6.14.2018