Morning - For my friend Gaby
Morning Today I woke with purple eye. The bed sheet covered with bitterness, the horizon dyed your gaze with resentment. It was my prison, my sticky algae refuge, the silence of dead birds. God I love you Gaby! Your hands strange tentacles of islands. Oysters open their eaten shells rock jellyfish and sirens have indigo lips. So much oblivion, so much baseness! A wounded wolf with hemlock penis howled in your brain. It hit the staghorn corals. So much water lily perfume in the swamp inside you. The morning was intoxicating liquor, menstrual delirium. Your sex on top of my tumbling soul defeated. The froth of your mouth, the epilepsy of sound scream: God how I love you! You were the vampire of my night carriage, the dice rolled in red brothels, the subtle emanation of nipples. Next morning your teeth bit my forbidden fruit, walked with tousled hair, wandered the streets of my chalices. You knew how to unl