At night we were a fresco 
painted by an astronaut, our 
messy bed the chapel of a
voyeuristic God, where glory 
worked with hurried hands
in frenzied fellowship and
hallelujah was a sigh that
quivered on my lips, then we
nodded off like angels of our
own apocalypse; it was made-up
love, when we woke up,
the dreamed up stuff of kids.

my gasps they
actively react to you
academically,
accidentally I think
facing the tall-bed-duet
dragging your
thigh towards
my cheek
was beautiful up
side down & it
took me
she,
took me
we're,
falling asleep

that afternoon mouth
summer fruit and
what else can I pull through these lungs
a cheek-full of
five full breaths, impossible to clear
another Saturday smiling
I get it
there's girls as
pretty as
you everywhere

I'm not a child
woman I'm
this wanting thing between
two arms
shaped like a body
I've been alive with the breeze for
centuries, darling

my love wasn't being made to make you feel foolish
you can't learn from that
wash your hands now, it's midnight
I'm
out the window
I wonder
what you wanted
and hold the whiskey in my mouth
singing be mine
for the company
cause I don't want to be ashamed to love you

& I'm tired.
Tired of sleeping after sweet dreams /
I'm sitting up now because you know I can't sleep  
who wants to sleep after a beg like that
I'm not built to be listless
I'm built for better, I'm strong
& you're
the 4pm sun in October
you're the reason I whistle in a hundred colors
It's a beautiful torture to miss a hand so much
to wear rings for the memory of fingers and to crave a cheek, not only for it's mouth but because feeling you allows me to breathe easy

I said enough when it wasn't  
my like for a mountain of
mouths to **** time
& I'm still standing in the hallway;
happening upon where it went
or
if you could have helped it
I know I couldn't
when I can hardly stand or
stand it
built a lump of love in the blue dark
during wine
she's just
a woman in jeans
a heavy thought against my knees or
something I think I need to
belong with me

Rubicon on broadway 
young and beautiful 
in white Cadillacs and Buicks
audio pop gods transmit 
preludes for the night 
through hair waves 
and satellite finger tips

Buried souls are only resurrected
among friends
at Shakespearian rags
at 10
in mind
with wine, no whine 
oh mine, oh mine 
no more golden toads in Costa Rica—
the planet is a metaphor for the body—

old spice and white gum

our everyday gospel

Soulless,
We quenched our dreams with thirst;

bought the heavens,
Waving a country of radio love

As fee,

United under one Internet
Two Chocolate paper ******* announcements
And $6 New York Halal meat.

The mortal man always drinks his sea--
So ask your doctor about Nixon
And lift the verbs off your skirt
For Nemo
who replaced Icarus
And now twerks at synods
With ******* oven oil glued
To his left fin;

The same one God used to bet Satan over the soul of man.

Dear Adulterer

the present is the only girl worth living
for in her bed is where you
always are

time brings about the decay of perfection

always,
breathe

and lend half a knee to the ground

to send naked prayers to the sky
for wifi—
we are supposed
to be our ancestor’s sci-fi.