Presence

Divine, snap-winged, lustful villain,

die down and carry back all the scentless

blossoms sprouting from your feet.

They’re all you have left in this concave-down

atmosphere where all the stars implode

along the breathy clavicles

of tart sea angels.

Oh, misery, misery stabbing

this slim little back, scraping all the dead

skin off with your knives that

you’ve licked and salted

all the while carving body-aches into

the ridges.

Oh, mindless heart, sweet little tongue,

and swiveling eyelashes above my bed—

forgive, forget and bury me…

deep into your skin.

I’ve taken all the sacrificed,

blue pinions and broken them down

into digestible fragments of selflessness,

sugar, all for you.

And you, baby, toothless and dry are

crawling through the quarters

of my naked, searing eyes…

and the death corridor

plastered above me is

overlooking my sharp, red layers of

flushed illusions of beauty.

Oh, the flow of my heartbeat is

so slow these days

as a thousand, grand azure curtains

flash and beckon

for me.

Die down and erect

that voluptuous, arrogant smile

through the heated,

tin door of your heaven’s

presence—

and I’ll lean my bestial,

chapped lips over your

succulent, sunken head.