Thursday, April 23, 2009

Conquer

Conquer


I am not afraid.
I wish to lay bare before you,
flayed open to your eyes,
completely exposed. I am
willing to be unwrapped
like a present on Christmas morning,
all my surprises revealed
to your naked eye. Treat me as
your canvas, blank and ready
to be painted, to be filled
with color. I am clay, yearning
to be molded by your capable,
eager hands.
You are my golden calf,
I worship at your feet,
forsaking any higher power
than the love you give, I
am a staunch believer
in your religion,
preach to me. Reach
to me. Across lonely miles
or oceans, rivers or valleys,
mountains and towns.
I will feel you, no matter how far
you may be, no distance is
too vast, no burden too great.
You are the only star
in my nighttime sky, a
single lighthouse beacon
calling to me in the darkness,
leading me home across the sea.
You’ve found me, hidden
like treasure, untouched
by human hands for centuries,
a fossil encased in a limestone tomb,
cushioned by years of dirt and time,
of progress. You discovered me
like a new continent,
claiming me for your own.
I have been conquered.

We Are Love

We Are Love

We weren’t born for
the world of champagne,
pearls, masquerade thrills,
Egyptian cotton sheets
or expensive high-heeled shoes.
You know how we prefer
cigarette smoke against the sky,
late-night marathon conversations,
holes in our fishnets, our hearts,
our cardigans. Tattoos of
broken hearts or black widows or ballet dancers,
chipped nail polish and illegal substances,
wild car rides and sequined bustiers,
our pride bolstered by
how great we look in thigh highs
or pancake makeup,
our corsets and high-heels.
We’re the scavengers, the
art nouveau – young, or
old, with our choppy hair
or heavy-lidded eyes, waves
and red lipstick, pressing
our lips together outside, inside,
under fluorescents or sunlight.
We’re hands clasped together
late in the night, magnets
with opposite pulls.
We’re the vampires of this fair city,
burning easily in daylight but
owning the streets after midnight,
unkempt and savage,
brutal but beautiful. We are
the lovers, the dancers, the dreamers.
We’re the music-makers
and the artistes. We spin our tales,
our webs, the heads of passerby,
we break into song and
steal hearts. We are thieves in the night,
vandals and scoundrels
hooligans and whores.
We are love. And we do not apologize.

Kryptonite

Kryptonite


You see me as perfect,
but I am no heroine.
I can’t control my own fate,
let alone the fate of the world.
I’m unable to leap tall buildings
in a single bound, walk through walls,
or see through time. I’m more
kryptonite than Lois Lane,
far more likely to impede
than to help. Glorious, decadent.
I’ll sneak up on you like a ninja,
and you’ll never even see me coming.

Always and Forever

Always and Forever

Syrup sweet, your tough
is like heroin to
my system, overload,
overcome, overflowing,
with love and with joy,
I just can’t fathom being
anywhere but here, with
anyone but you. You
are my bridge, my boat,
my ocean. My savior.
I’m always and forever,
yours.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

Enchantment

Enchantment

Blinking signs. Stars.
Cars are killer whales
in the ocean of the dark.
I draw breaths like inspiration,
crumpled thoughts, napkins,
unfinished concepts in my mind.
You can’t change the channel,
push some button –
get a smile instead of this
Technicolor attitude,
curled like tendrils of ivy.
I'm sunshine inkblots,
wooden cubed,
silk-interiored. Unbelievable.
You’re a doctor in your own right,
sterile-gloved, heart
still beating in your chest.
Isn’t this how love should be?
Fragile-winged, like
first-born fledglings in Spring,
simple, tragic,
and beautiful.