Let the music play

If we could put it to music
it would be your fingers
on my fine tunes,

my lyrics
finding you
in chords that could not exist
before this night.

We choose staying in,
underneath a thick haze
of purple and green.
Your eyes try to match me;
our deepest rhythms
sinking,
flowing,
dancing

naturally. We slip back –
your tongue laced with black
magic –
and I,

knee deep in daydream,
wrapped up in
this dimension,
several chords playing,
all of them in key.

Gripping to the cadence,
dripping with luxury,
we summon our past lives

we consult the angels
of mercy

and forgive every sinner
who ever has sinned.

This is our music.
Saturday night flat –
my bottle of Jack,
your smoke gliding
down my deep
throat

Like clockwork
here we go.

Whisper

Dark Mountain, whisper across
my valley, my spine.

If ever I turn like calm tide
it is toward your hot appetite,
sweating sweet pine across
empty June nights.

Blood echoes throughout
my arid river. I am twisted
in expressed wish.

Your land slides;
hands down thick mounds
of victory –

for you. For me,
you are empty;
the last trace of you drips
from the lips of
another – but where is she,

Dark Mountain, where is she?

COUNTERPART

Gather your corn cockle and doll’s eyes,
the apple orchard’s angry.

She shoots her black seeds
down your throat,
eyes pierced through skin
to watch your veins suffocate.

I met her in September
when she was frail – my mistake –
I never knew of her spines, thorns,
and thistles.

But you knew everything of her:
her laughter,
her sentiment,
her tears….
and she hid in her orchard watching

the way I would swing from your branches;

how you picked fruit ripe from my body,

how every night you crossed midnight
twisted in my edible, red
nightshade

while her delicious Golden
nectar kept well
for the worms.

I Am A Sin By Nature

In truth, I open my eyes.
I am punished
for my power.

I have refused water to dry people
and tied anchor to those who heard the word
and believed it.
I became a burning flame in
bedrooms of strange

men, who desire reward
like Corinthians say they deserve.

I am a sin by nature,
by thought,
by curve,

and undeserving.
I open my eyes.
I am power.
It is true.