You are all hard angles,
A two-dimensional
Shadow

That forgets

You aren't human.
I'm a puppet show
Baby.

Snipping sparrow wings

For angels with
Plastic eyes and needle
Swords.

I steal what little is left

In your shadow,
Your body gone under
Years before in the comatose

Prison I lay you down on.

Sometimes in this sandbox
Playground of my mind
We still enact our old ways

I lick your wounds

You like it rough
And ready, but I get lost
Watching your strings

Twist and I forget

That this is a dream.
You're gone and I'm gone
And a splice is left over

A machine of heavy breathing.

Our thoughts melting
And reattached as not woman
And man,

But soul after soul stuck under my skin.

If I watch the play of my fingers just so
I can see you leaping
From shadow to skin, skin to shadow,

Hanging yourself along side the other dolls

In my empty memory.
I never wanted this skin
But wishes don't stop hot pressing memories

From pouring over my pupils.

You blind me with the swift surety of your movements
You never thought you could die
And shrugged on your immortality

While the other lightly drummed

His final years, streaked through my skin,
My hair. He believed in mortality
But not enough to sacrifice

His last bits of life on the throne of martyrdom.

Doesn't matter anymore, not you, not him,
Not that first boy, the virginity of my curse,
Piercing and cruel in his insistent penetration

Of my fragile psyche, just another doll on my wall.