Cruel World

sea-spray and several

tightly woven

salt-laden oceans

separate us

the wicked sun

rising in my dusk

setting in your dawn

blond eyelashes

licked

beaded with sweat

blinking away flecks of sand

wrapping

holding close

the honey-sweet

dazzle of your eye

i’m sick with it

(of it?) of

grappling with silent enigmas

and souls sitting quietly in kitchens

see-through fingers wrapped round steaming mug

the gentle way

in which you breathe

trying hard not to disturb the air

and your chest rises so slow

maybe i’m hoping you just die

skeleton key

rusty lock

mythic ball

evil chain

i want you

nauseating

i need you

humiliating

you walk like a sleepy sibling

through my dreams

and my waking moments

blur fire at the edges

i find you captivating

almost deadly

i find you blues

i find you jazz

i find you sleepwalking through my head in the still part of the night

i don’t mean to demean you

but you don’t know how

loneliness really tastes

you haven’t made a habit of

solitary confinement at the local cinema

and you

live

it’s why i ache &

why i wouldn’t even flinch if

you hurt me

don’t you see it?

i’m an exit wound

an open sore

now don’t you see it?

stick me with that cigarette

let me feel it

i want to be a fragment

of your something

i want to be tangible or

even something more chemical

than a feeling

i want your

perversion

and sandpaper tongue on

the slope of my back

make me think of childhood

and tear-stained pillowcases

make me vomit nostalgia

i bet your kisses taste close to suicide