Written while listening to that song “Green Grass” by Cibelle
You crackle in the old fireplace
An eternal internal heat polishes the glow from you
I have rediscovered fire by remembering you. Dreaming.
Your smoke, a cocktail of whatever drugs are most addictive
holds me curled there on bear skin in my bare skin, lying naked in wanting and warmth
Curled there huffing in the smoke, shivering on the high
But sweating you out at the exact same time
I’d wished for you for years.
Girl on park benches writing soggy poems that cried and tore as wet paper often does
Girl in cafeteria pining instead of eating, laughing at things not funny
Girl on auto pilot passing boy on football team…inhaling that effervescent scent, curls into herself later
By the fireplace, with the laced embers. Huffing. Shivering. Jonesing. Warm.
I miss the detrimental loves like you.
The experimental mental exercises in desire.
Number one on the star…the first thing that’s ever stopped my heart.
Loving you was
and pinch like losing my virginity…a stretch a stretch a stretch
That made me beg you to stop
But how could you know how cruel nature had made you?
Your angelic movement was an inadvertent hymn to me
A litany of where to rest my eyes and where my mind ought to wander
Forever under your footsteps
I needed you. Not in the way you think
Just to pay attention to the torture, you with the sharpened axe and hazel eyes
Averted and distracted as you killed me.
Day by day. Your face was cold steel in my mouth and your smile
God, your smile
was the gangster forcing me into Russian roulette.
I blamed you for not understanding the knot you’d tightened around my wrists.
Or the noose.
Blind to the ball gag in my mouth
Oblivious to the obvious captivity
I’ve since wondered where your limbs have found you
What angle of the sun finds your skin,
What constellation wraps itself about your view
when you step outside to see the moon
Wondered…what it would feel like to long for what we once had
Ask you to recall your love for me so, barefoot, we could catch flying things
and try to understand how the air catches their wings
But your crackle and that smell reminds me
That this curling I do beside you every now and then
Is the closest I’ve ever been to you…or the sun
Stare at it’s obesity and possibility and brilliance…heat…its passion…my desire to touch it
for too long
and I will go blind again.