three-am hymn
I whispered this to you at your grave. I don’t know if you were listening.
I love you. I will love you forever.
Even when the sky falls, I will love you.
Even as my body rots. I will love
you. It’s always you. Over and over.
I found you again on the highway.
You were a dead deer. I ran you over.
I knelt and kissed you all over. The
blood was already dry. You were cold.
I stuck my hand inside of you, and
you were cold. I sat on top of you, and
you were cold. I walked back in front
of my car and ran myself over. You
were cold, but I was still warm.
Please forgive me.
Drip-Drop Love
This is why we write poetry.
A heart too full to shatter,
like rain dripping into the open sea.
“I love you” cannot compete,
so I need another novel’s-worth,
my thesis on how your heartbeat
composes better than Mozart against mine.
I can write it down a hundred times,
but the eyedropper is one at a time, one at a time…
i said, "page three has your name on it"
still soulmate
corpse in my bed
arrhythmic love
rip the heartstrings
eaten dead or alive
defected devotion
(a)gape
if only i were beautiful, so i
cradle your heart in my hand
and bring it to my mouth,
slide it all the way down my throat.
do you hear it? when my spine twists,
splits all the way up through my brain,
do you hear my synapses whisper,
“it’s you. it’s you. it’s still you.”
or do you just say, “that’s not me”?
does that “you” exist?
do you still remember
the roof, the bedroom floor? or the
sunshine, the moonlight? or the time
when i flushed red, whispering,
“i love you.” because now,
you don’t say it back.
now it’s the basement, under the bed,
in the dead of the lightless night, my pallid face,
glazed-over. you gouge open my stomach,
and you pull your heart
right back out. i never
wanted to be beautiful,
but each time you kiss me,
i lose teeth from my smile.