even though it’s closed
there must be another side
to this door
I’ve never seen it open.
but I know you went through it
I think –
you lean against it
listening
for my voice
even though its closed
there must be another side
to your story.
Category: Crimson Writ
Where my words give lie to the wolf under the skin.
origami
there are so many ways
for you to unfold
remember that fortune-telling game
at school
calling out numbers
and colors
to determine
what kind of house you will live in
hut / boathouse / mansion
life would be so much
simpler
if we limited to just
a few
options.
but anyone who has tried origami
can tell you.
even folding paper
is not simple
figurative vs. literal
I can touch the night sky.
literally.
reach up with both hands
peel back the black
and reveal that stars
aren’t
really
stars
they are the dust of our dreams.
bright and powerful enough
to burn holes in the void.
(for L&L)
not where you looked last
you want to disappear
but I know
all your
hiding
places
you want to be lost
but I know
it’s because
it means being
somewhere
new
you want nothing.
but I know
you really
want everything
you’ve just
been taught
not to ask.
sheer
you cannot say
“this is enough.”
when
the thought
of your thighs
makes the world
too small
to hold
my
hunger
janus
hid[den]
the beauty of darkness
is the absence
of shame
and the possibility
of
everything else.
“No, don’t turn on the light. Stand there.”
You are silhouette in my door.
I am a voice in the room.
“Strip.”
You do. Of course you do.
“Turn around.”
I watch you make a slow, almost timid, turn in place. There is just enough light for me to take in your naked curves.
“Good girl.”
“Now come in.”
“And close the door.”
spilt
you like to hold
your cup
like it might
shatter
if I speak.
I noticed today
that you put
all the glassware
behind the cereal
so I’m waiting
to see
if you ask me
for milk.
balance
“No, don’t move.”
My words rest precariously upon your skin.
You sway. Teeter.
It is hard to stand with your ankles bound tightly together.
And my fingers curled deep inside you from behind.
And my teeth nipping the edge of your ear.
And my cock pressing rigid and hot against your thigh.
But I expect you to do it anyway.
Choked.
choked
on my words
placed
so delicately
upon your tongue
you are taught
to respect
prohibitions
by force
“what will you do
when my reach is so long
I can pluck your sins
like over-ripe cherries?”
your answer
is no answer at all
because you cannot speak
with my words
filling
and burning
your mouth