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On a Dog-eared Page
Folder:
The Every Now and Thens If we know how to dig graves,
then we can dig them
deeper
Down into the cold where
the Earth and marrow are brothers
I won't have to see you.
And you won't have to hear my plead.
If reconcilation was an option, then
I suppose we'd all hold hands
But if you know the meaning of grieving,
then you'd know what its like to be close to me
Someone brilliant once said that her heart
put on a face and walked into the world
And if that's the case then we'd better choose
our masks carefully.
It would be wise not to blink on the brink of love's undoing
Shedding our guilt by way of blood, or orgasm
lie still, and take it like a man
like a hook, in the back
And what I hide behind these twisted eyes,
is only the business of mine
If I shivered from a whisper, then I think it's
time
to leave
Hands, mangled, without you
Soiled thin, as the night hoovers above this roof
Let the fire eat the words that kill me.
"I dream that I am Oedipus"
and I can say no more, lest I go too far
somewhere unretrievable, dearest ghost
Ten feet under and oh so cold
Only in depth will you see, that your bones
are my bones
Your bones are my bones.
