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.