Bronchitis

My lungs are not my own
What mossy overgrowth crawls up my pipes
What snake lies coiled
Squeezing life out of every breath
What rusty nuts and bolts rattle with every exhale
Who is the punk squatting in my alveoli
Blowing smoke rings into virgin tissue
What demon hovers on my lips
Stealing air with every kiss
What metaphor will make me forget
My own body betrays me

Imagine My Surprise

what familiar hands
patient, agile
hands my shoulders recognize
at first brush
hands whose sinews have commanded
great beauty in my presence

Imagine my surprise
when they struck my face

Human Veil

if you ripped off my human veil
what would you see underneath?
what form would I take?
or would I shrivel in the light
and dissolve into little droplets
suspended on dust?

Darling Degenerate

darling degenerate
you are
the stinging glow at the end of a cigarette
leaving tar and burns everywhere
you go
but i breathe your fumes
with a smile
my depravity
is too shy to leave a smoke trail
but it feels content
in your ashy presence

Welcome

you don't spend much time
peeking behind curtains,
rummaging through boxes,
pieces of my mind
tucked inside.
those remain untouched--
no breaks in the dust
from curious fingertips.
your fingertips
prefer to roam
through skin and hair,
pausing now and again
on gasping lip
pounding vein.

but I feel your presence
sitting cross-legged
at the hem of the curtain.
the untouched boxes don't feel alone
when your fingertips finish
with my skin hair lips veins
and fall asleep on my pillow.

companion--
I make room for you
in bed in mind.
your fingertips are welcome
to wander at will.

Keep It Casual

you ruin my soul.

wait, that's not what I meant.

you undress me (why?)
and I pretend it's not secrets I spill
into your loquacious hands.
you mark me (as whose?)
and I make believe the bruises
can be brushed away
like blood in sand.
you rip your body from mine
in the morning (where to?)
and don't seem to notice
how much of my skin
you take with you.

every time you leave
I feel the dents from your teeth
on my lips
and wish
I was being consumed
by love.

but here we go again
undressing
marking
ripping
unable to say no
unable to numb all longings.

This -- this is what ruins my soul.

Inspired by Matt Ulery's "Queen"

queen of ragged riches run
with haloed wrists
and lips -- grammar of rose
walk and sidewalks
tumble into servitude
weeds in sentiment adoring
bow as hips enchant the air

queen of jagged winking joy
eyes lined with flirting shade
pierce and pleasure
awaiting lesser glances met
tilt and sway
kiss and slay
queen -- you're home