#mawkish

in the snow

as poets salivate after [your] beauty on a leash with lines from gimmicky

postcolonial love poems

oblivious

to their firmaments

within:

delete my words all you [want] but you won't be able to decimate that

stinging temptation

that makes you pull

the strings of your dreamhouse abyss: you recoil because you crave control

absolute control

if someone comes

close

you retreat to your lavish hut: in your abode aching to be held by someone

telling yourself:

we all hide behind screens and touch ourselves when [we] push others away

lonely mirrors

after all

like stale gunpowder

passion is dour when you can't fathom your inside: rattles like the last sip from

salt water yearning:

i finish pages

but no one

bothers to read them: least of all you why do i recall your [gaze] at midnight

when the ceiling pastes

your voice onto

everything literally

[ DEEP HOUSE ]

world

to matter to you you want life and also don't want it: you want it and

don't want it

when you know

everything you say

you don't

know yourself: juggling house of cards: often i find myself writing the [same]

things over and over

when other poets run thin

with nausea and give up i scribble till i reach the bones: with all the laughs

and phone glares

you wouldn't understand when you're sick of being you [you] leap into the

abyss: that prefect

dreamhouse abyss

with scales like our dragon: something is burning no one comes to douse the

flames

with someone else you verify yourself: god! i can't think of something flowery

allegorical

when i write like this: whatever this crude asinine fuming something is:

or

nothing

it's going nowhere i think everyone has everything figured out: [how to] breathe

and taste and

with whom to

died before

in [my] mountains: i sink further draped in inked pages spectacle

for all your

dreary autumnal

poets

chewing on you

with eyes like an unsung encounter that cannot be put [into] words: our

dreamhouse abyss

licks aether takes in everything we had breathed when you transferred

snow from

your mouth

to mine:

often i attempt to recall your touch that ends up dissolving each winter

bone

of everyone that tastes [you] when you die in their arms masking your

warm tear-rebirths

holding onto me

[in] your talons as you caress then eulogize them so that they cannot

be found:

with that open appalachian sunshine wind stirring your palomino tresses

and the frame

just has you minus

snow

prayed enough [all] the gods would appear mellow and grant a boon to

your beloveds

hovering above you

your coyote coterie:

you often leave imprints all over my spine and ask me [to] sleep when it's

late: hang up

then twirl like a ballerina sleepless whatever words that dare to rise up

you

muffle [them]

before they morph into darts: here in my head a poetess names me after

some cheap

cracked reed and

bites into my

clavicle:

all hearts pound the most [for] spirits they couldn't exorcise: where are you

that isn't here

or anywhere

that i can go blind

searching for [you]

january remains solitary without poems about gravestones and the translucent

ice film that forms

on your skin

shimmering when you keep my name clenched between your teeth: so many

sighs stay [unmet]

unanswered

they never

make into what i write for [you]: you're always out by the frozen river-amnesia

inaudible as the [mist]

begins to sweep over our

dirges

through the mattress: everything is [moist] everything gushing and that

textbook [i]

castaway

for beginning

with an awry

stroke as if [you] guided my fingers too close to your skin and said: play

the wrong [note]

so that i can remember you while in bed with florence but you never said

[you]

but i add it

here for

rhetorical purposes offending some who say they aren't but are: not [moi]

more cheesecake

than usual

when my feet hurt after carrying your [ghosts] on my shoulders through the

bazaars

that you wrote in

magnificent magnolia magenta and then weaved that dreamhouse abyss

upon my half yawn

or maladjusted