Moirai

Moirai

instead of simply grazing
the surface of your breasts in desperation
& could overcome their wild passions
for the logic & mathematics of poetry
or the campaign of ecstasy I execute
as Thanatos delivering your body

Pygmalion

Pygmalion

there are those, I discovered late, who were not born
loathing their bodies
whose faces grew from their souls, & were not stamped
upon a skull with little care

Cormorant

Cormorant

on certain nights
when there was no hope
& all the radio stations played
Bela Lugosi’s Dead
on repeat
stretched out the chained drums

Zephyr

Zephyr

it would be nice I think it would be nice
to pretend that all this pain is purely for you
romantic in our fucked up way how fucked we
have always been it comes now to romance
and something like love truth is
I was hurting & hurting myself