when i am alone

i am oblique—Grecian in my desire,

in the marble curve of my

white neck.

i smile like a swan

black lips, toxic

and deceitful.

my tongue pretzel-twists

itself in an effort to untie

my lies.

but you cannot reform me

i am too addicted to your lapses

and your lulls,

the spaces and the pauses you

don't bother to enclose in parentheses.

i trace them in the air

those graceful gazebo arches.

and when your name wanes to crescent,

i dream of us asleep amid

Parisian Rayonnant spires

awash in purple light.