Let’s spend the day touching each other
with our open mouths.

I know your kindness is derived from the cruelty
you are trying to conceal,

a white blanket over a dismembered corpse
shivering from the movement of maggots.

Let’s spend Sunday evenings
setting old buildings on fire.

Until our luck runs out
because we watch the blaze from within

to imagine we are being consecrated into purity
by the flames of purgatory.

I wish for you and I to be indistinct,
a single pile of ash and bone.

A more terrible inferno waits for us.
There, we glow forever.

--

--

he sends me a dark picture of the sea in the morning.
our destiny is this: when we face the empyrean fire
of moksha, we will look into each others eyes
one last time. know everything that we’ve gone through.
the people we have been, the places we have seen.
we will remember it all, and for the final time let go.
millions upon millions of years of forgetting,
with only our love to guide us, somehow, to each other.
finding our way so that we can pass through eternity
while fulfilling our promise — that in the end
we will be destroyed at the same moment.
the taste of oblivion sweet like blood,
pressing upon our tongues in the last instance,
before this all comes to a close. finally.
the consummation of mortality: love that is eternal
because nothing else follows.

--

--

My soul has read too much poetry
and refuses to love someone else.

Like a Knight, it possesses foolish zeal,
and before I sleep it prays to God

even without me.
Because of you, my spirit

has suddenly gone rogue.
Love has caused it to rebel,

and so my body goes along the world
in profound and inimitable senselessness.

I drink hot chocolate at the cafe,
and care very little for it.

I have six oysters by myself
and feel like wanting to vomit.

My spirit rattles my ribs with a metal cup,
repeating, “I love him. I love him. I love him.

If you cannot do anything about it,
cut yourself open and set me free.”

--

--