harpy eagle

Seven-eleven at six AM
   catching sideways glances
     from working men who come
                                      to life @ that
                                   particular hour
                     I haven’t brushed my hair
         & this middle part is the only style
           my laziness can endure to wear

        this cashier is new
      I don’t know the lilt in her voice
     as she hands me my change
    we meet once more on the way out
           penetrative, it’s bad for my health

                    the little smile
                & pale shoes
        might’ve given me away
       or maybe I should’ve been more awake


unknown aristocrat

stumbling stumbling over/
                    words cannot communicate
                    my awe in the aesthetic
                                                     of You
       wound golden rings and stoic refine
                like a reluctance to show
                         what’s hidden
             for the show has been harshly

                        I aim to reignite
                              the sun in your hollow
            sit amongst magnificent banquets
                     and you/ with lucullan                                         diamonds

                    I ache for your plight
                humming tiers in the nightfall
                        ruminating past lives
                             where I might have
        slid fingertips under your fabric
                               and wildered away

                                                Content at last


Intimacy &

Moth orchids, blue dahlia &
                     collide/o/scope roses
                     shining vastly fantastical
                      inside deep violet vases
                             on your     walnut

               I still filled your plate
                 linen napkins tied with
                             strips of ivory lace
               though the silverware/remains/


[Authors Note: not sure about this one]

Speak Softly Now

A masquerade when I come to you,
   crafting a magnificent pedestal
         that I know you’ll never truly accept
             I am the worst for ruffling buttercream
              [Especially those with the highest                                    risk but] I cannot
                                    deny nor falsify
                          the urges

      &  I think these “costumes” are not for
                      fleecing a victim raw —-
                      as they are a silken fan
          for which I may bat my eyes behind

       I am just as afraid as you.
       I am just as
       As You.


tar & feathers

In every realm you penetrate me
                  torturously, digitally,
                            but the taste is sweet
                         and now I’m addicted_____
              cutcrumple to bruised knees
                       that’ll never heal properly
                          spite these sprites/
               & their lime green cypress trees

      I caught
                your eye
                           by accident
                         but I set fire on purpose
           amongst my aviary of harpy eagles
                           & great poor me ones
                         I drown in their black eyes
                   for their supposed “emptiness”
                      reminds me there’s a soul