smitten-
to feel the bearings slip,
fell, went tip first.
you fainted like Kermit,
too much, too fast.
ground turned to hills-
hills to mountains,
and still
you pounded them back to dust.
i needed the shame.
needed the bones to break clean.
needed to be
the last whisper
your voice could carry.
tall brown glass—
Pyrex reflections—
or maybe just a book
you never got to finish.
digest the white powdered kiss,
miss the way your hips
kept promises
your mouth never made.
planned parenthood dreams,
should’ve lit the gyms pink—
those flamingos always fascinated me.
i live to love you,
and i love to love you—
but like lemonade,
nothing gold can stay.
music on—
watching the boys blur,
fray to bass,
nor Ken—
just something
easy to blend.
matter—
no, madder.
old rivers chain themselves
to whatever noise your bayou makes.
makes you think the west almost could repent.
i’d follow you south
just to watch the light go out—
just to know
you turned 180°
call you my Prix.
even the titanic sinking
wouldn’t kill the signal.
i know it’s on—
i’m still trying to transmit.
uncontrolled,
screaming for Tom—
and calling Major
for chance—
to vault these blues,
to still get one more shot
at being white trash on repeat.
they\'ll make it constant.
but you still wouldn’t
want to know,
what color it is i bleed.