I’m a level six fire hazard Rating: catastrophic Defence is futile For your survival, leave now The fire hawks drop bombs Igniting me Igniting a rage that electrifies The dry and formal air Between us, my glare Is thermonuclear I’m a fiery inferno I’m a level six tornado And you — all knowing and kind Shielding your eyes I want to bully you into the corner of this poem And leave you there To burn

Desperation drives you to destroy yourself. Desperation to see yourself Looking back at you Smaller Tighter. The blank space between thoughts Is blank space between thighs A grand Victory Arch That exists only in mind. What if you were to smash it down? Destroy the phantasm self By embracing the one Of flesh and bone? Wrap both your arms Around you And feel your realness, Feel its power?

I want your kisses. The slow, soft, meaningful ones. Forget those firm-lipped things. I want to be able to catch your lower lip between mine and have it submit to my will; to swoon, to comply, to give itself up without resistance. When I tug on it gently and release it, it should spring back softly like a done cake under a baker’s probing finger. I want your tongue to softly question, and for mine to answer. You can get it to ask anything it wants: who I am, how I got the cracks in my soul… If I love you.

The thunder cracked and clapped and cried As night flashed in rage, and I raged inside The street lamps were bathing in buckets of rain The wind was a banshee, battering the pane With blankets turned back like the wink of an eye The bed bared its womb and beguiled me inside And there I thundered and cracked and cried Til the street lamps were clean and the banshee grew tired And when I was empty the lightening went quiet My body fell still and the thunder subsided And letting my lids draw a close to the storm I dreamed of a sun rising radiant and warm

Even though it was not in his nature to cheat, or to lie, or even to requisition the attentions of other women just to feed his wilting ego, he found himself naked and curled around someone who was not his own. He’d tried to resist, but she had some kind…

Step into my office. A mound of feather-stuffed pillows Hoists my heavy head; Legs tunnel straight ahead Into soft blankets. I’m crucified In comfort. The absence of human connection Is a presence That doesn’t shut up. When days empty It crescendoes. I’m in solitary, Self-imposed. I read dream books on overnight loan. But in waking I tear away like a page, While the volumes bedside Are untouched and undesired. I’m left wanting — For wanting nothing.

Two galaxies collide, Star-crossed lovers Taking their life. A galactic jolt Sends shivers through the universe. Inside the violent crash The stars reel and spin, Dizzy in the empty space. Everything shatters. Everything dissipates. Not even an illusion is left behind. But wait. There — Suspended in the blackness — A mote A particle A tiny thing formed in the fatal affair Of these two darlings. A diamond Blazing and brilliant, Begotten in the crucible Of their destruction, Born in the blackness Of their end.

The little plants we couldn’t keep Alive, the plans we couldn’t meet That I’ve been nurturing instead But find I’m clutching wilted, dead In sad forms to my chest — Bury them like little stars That sting a dirty sky, and marred With fallen spines the ground will cry For cacti And our lost designs

It was only three years ago that I arrived. A friend said to me yesterday, “You were brave, coming here.” But I said, “No… to have courage you first have to fear something. If you don’t fear it you’re not being brave.” Since then, I’ve lost something. It’s not like…