“I’m scared that I’m waiting for this big type of love that will never find me.”
A Bullet For Sale.
I used to masturbate to the neighbor
beating his wife
retreat and
start again
retreat and behold
the space between
his fist and her lips
and wonder how many licks it takes
to knock another bluebird loose
straining against myself
yourhands
your tricky fingers.
-
Being wonderful was easy once,
she says
a tiny thing
tight lipped and cordial
skinny like her momma was.
If I had enough guts
I would leave
the letters in a landfill
plant a sunflower in each brown tint
bottle and tell them
I’ve rubbed myself raw
exactly where they were sitting.
I would
call myself Lucky.
You will let the house burn. You will leave
the cage door open on purpose. You will
drink wine on the porch and know that attachments
are never a good idea.
Baby girl, you do not need another body to miss.
Flip your lucky.
-
You doe-eyed animal
made of festering sinew
and lonely lips
straining to taste anything
like the hips of Tennessee.
-
Look at what I have done.
Cables.
I had a dream that we weren’t very far away from each other,
that you were the whole of Texas and I was Little Rock,
holding on to your collar like a child with a nosebleed
bewildered and purging
ignorant to what is in store when they grow up
and realize they are not a God
but a weak something
with a black eye to hide behind.
I had a dream that we weren’t very different from each other,
that you were an arsonist and I a house
hallways filled with holograms, a small batch of vodka,
kettles of tea for two and a ring of gasoline
made especially for you.
I had a dream that I wasn’t alone,
that I didn’t tell you I am going to kill myself because fuck,
I cannot picture anyone wanting to wake up beside me
ride the carnival inside me,
come find me and unwind me,
that all I ever wanted to do was give you something beautiful
and all you could ever do was love me back.
I had a dream that things were moving
moving faster than they ever had
and I didn’t mind it.
