It was only just
the other night things
felt our skins collapsing together before
eternal dividers
settled back their course
the air was impossible collapsed gestures
backed up tears
at the soft wet bodies
of frogs.
The only thing
keeps me from you, this
so called choice, the sudden switch of
trajectory into
the road so people say
avoid the collapsing traffic we say: Silence,
for the crush
of a vehicle keep me from
your fists or even
words are terse enough
symbols to make
my only body position
cross into the mouth of no-christ. The things
we do for you,
somehow the sight of this body tense you up
to murder
knowing not the rendition,
its schema but for the sake of your life
ducking from light
we go side by side along
the concourse walls & arches tracing
your brave steps dropping
back the image could put you in a cage away
from the family uni-
fication through the courts; even a word or a stone
phlegm could detach you...
...so we duck & split
into pipes, behind fabrics hating visibility’s action
altering to the greater quicker
risk over retinal contracts waiting for the light
to clear this aching pale straight lag
coerced in the map to never break that false
harmony, relations. Never
to be broken the dissonance
my life has made; you are still
so beautiful; soft
in the violence
I held back in you.
the other night things
felt our skins collapsing together before
eternal dividers
settled back their course
the air was impossible collapsed gestures
backed up tears
at the soft wet bodies
of frogs.
The only thing
keeps me from you, this
so called choice, the sudden switch of
trajectory into
the road so people say
avoid the collapsing traffic we say: Silence,
for the crush
of a vehicle keep me from
your fists or even
words are terse enough
symbols to make
my only body position
cross into the mouth of no-christ. The things
we do for you,
somehow the sight of this body tense you up
to murder
knowing not the rendition,
its schema but for the sake of your life
ducking from light
we go side by side along
the concourse walls & arches tracing
your brave steps dropping
back the image could put you in a cage away
from the family uni-
fication through the courts; even a word or a stone
phlegm could detach you...
...so we duck & split
into pipes, behind fabrics hating visibility’s action
altering to the greater quicker
risk over retinal contracts waiting for the light
to clear this aching pale straight lag
coerced in the map to never break that false
harmony, relations. Never
to be broken the dissonance
my life has made; you are still
so beautiful; soft
in the violence
I held back in you.