Painted Lines

i feasted as though the day were purple with a stain

when we two parted, when we two became a wilderness, uncharted

and i sang choruses of itch and fever in my head when you were its pain

because when you phoned and told me you were waiting i grew more fainthearted

i recall that it was down the street and not across it

but the lines are still there and all that we had we loved even as we lost it

and in your shoes which made my ankles bleed

i came to find a pleasure which seemed real

and that was that you had allowed me to be freed

through imitation like with art but more surreal

the wrap was wimpy and the fish was niggered

but the sex was great and for libertines that’s what counts

so, in your cabinet i unwound and just as we figured

i went mad from an empty heart and so bareback was our sermon on the mount

no greater was the freudian than in our embrace

because when you inhale another you share the same face

husband, i carved you from alabaster and not from clay

and i carved you like a wolf with pyramid teeth and x-acto claws

because i had a vision of overcoming being gay

but i did not know that instead of breaking bread we’d be breaking laws