Saturday, October 09, 2010

These Gangrenous Days




These Gangrenous Days


There are two of us. One soft and white, the other unbreakable,
yet forgetful.  These days I never blame them:

he’s been
iron butterfly
dipped in lavender
mother of
his Lesbos island

grape picker
whose stalks are buried
deep in my ass
fears the evening Angel
of forbidden words

his heart is a turquoise
ocean from where I call
his name
Cavafy I am tearing
down these walls

for any man as fragmented as you
should be able
to satisfy
my need for strong tropical flowers
penetrating my warm coffin

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