you're poison! poison! the mirror's man,
to be chosen, frozen, born again.
the sprout, the seed, can't start clean like me.
to spring from dirty memories,
to make love like broken machines,
but mend me. hold me 'til i'm warm,
like your slender legs across the skin,
this slowly over-thinking means:
"it's a backwards life, it's a first night"
for the finding stranger coming home,
give me your past, give me your voice,
to memorize, to talk like.
and we'll talk like this...
" i followed you to the rooftop,
singing songs that brave men sing
but i don't' sing anymore."
in a gilded frame, left unfulfilled,
hung crooked by the window sill,
it's canvas torn, it's warning pours and spills,
the scars from here to june 16th,
the needle and the thread beneath,
where the naked, shaking, aimless orphan lies,
a poet, his prose numb from drink,
composed as an apology,
to the plaintive maiden, lacing up her gown.
collapse ribcage! these weighted breaths,
the weary winds at the window ledge,
where you kiss the bird,
who's breaking his own wings.
and the bird said...
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