MOTH EATER (about to die) dreams
say, are we just meateaters on a spine
say, can we hold each by the balls of our joints
one morsel at a time
our gaze trickling down
like milk on each other?
We haven’t got time left // fear is no luxury
I have flesh memories from my dreams
We used to spread like cream
can we split apart our fear finally,
spider lily of a yarn
and chew up our love like a pomegranate?
We’re plummeting like Plath
A scream of decay
Bundles in our nerves
can we make silhouettes jealous by how we meld together
Come on, hurry—
A wood rot spout from the mishmesh
In a scream
Leech of love
can we eat our dreams into reality?
can we, can we?
Marionette on strings—
spit out our moths
Peel.
Your heart is warm like a fig
Seed on my tongue.
One half of a body healed whole
and spread our desire out on paper
as your spine curbs about
Bird with two right wings—
We are curbed together in a dream,
Scream beneath my covers
Red-hot in my lovelust core
the bits of flesh
I can kiss in you.
Phoenixes in death // dead dream on a candlestick
I cannot die // in a poem // only a semi-colonial pause // the soft run of their gaze pressing the air out of me // deadweight on a page // i am a second hand pause // italicised heart // lolling like the ghost of a dotted i // my ribs are curved dashes // in a poem I have 9 lives // 7 times to die.
reborn in an open mouth // maybe you can rebirth my silence in assonance // and punctuate my meaning in a lisp // maybe you can relive me in a swallow // low glance //
I cannot die in a poem // in everyone’s hearts but no one’s eyes // i am but a paperweight // butterfly crucified on a letter.
I cannot die in poem // and whimper in your voice // I cannot die in poem // for longer than the lazy run of an eye // I cannot die in a poem // and breathe in your sigh // I cannot die in a poem // and live where your eye lies // Because I haven’t even lived at all.