there is a handprint on my mirror.
is it mine? did I leave it there one
sweet hot california night, while
I was high? or could it have been
the ghost, from two months ago.
the bleached one? the one I fell
in love with. who was so, into me
that I was completely full (under-
stand?) it made me. cosmic. I was
universes! and he moons and
milkyways. we created colors to-
gether. fell sharply off, the allies
and deep into the cities, under-
belly. where kings make, ecstasy
and clouds are angels fucking.
we lost care [love was madness]
chose, tops and bottoms. (easily,
you liked the bottom too much.)
but you, are not at fault! bugg-
eyed boy. all those rotten peaches
you shoved in your pockets have
fermented. we, don't have to be
sober lovers. we can ignore the
sharp pains of, sex; as we d. don't
completely unravel. because they
have rules about that on this side
of the wall.