When the Blood Does Not Know to Stop

                         i.

G   lance over your shoulder past
   the truth, peer through what
should burn you, faith in
a light the brightness of
which is enough to stain
your churches’ windows with, if
only I had the balls
then to tell you to
your face how much I

still want your balls in

my face now, in the
dark nude of steepled fingers
charisma ensues, consumes with slant
kindness an inching vision of
what embrace undoes, incites in
an instant an uncoupling, unwanting
the once-was to room in
its emptied tomb two truths
thumbs never touch, not when

fingers do their lingering best

to extinguish rude libidos, flashes,
cuts out, zooms into oblivion
as fists crush throats before
kisses can be swallowed below
lips death touches as though,
punishes as if, he were
allowed to strangle from us
his gift, deprive us of
our part in this myth,

                         ii.

for any initiate it is
this whispered knowledge imparted when
the one you want departs,
when he just ups and
vanishes, that you have to
express an interest in your
Self to Them, lest We
succumb to destruction by expectations,
Theirs not Ours, for the

unpunished vice is getting away

with discovering a new one,
though with no one to
share it with you will
no longer enjoy the elements,
you will perish by the
death you threatened, exiled to
oblivion gasping, drowning in a
fit of furious congress, mercantile
love goes on to get

off killing itself, purchases freedom

the way any suicide does,
touching on something else unwritten,
trickling out of existence an
echo wept into a glass
cloud erases, tells through television
skin bruises glisten, the hue
of freezer burn, that what
truth rots beneath returns, reruns,
it is murder in absentia,

                         iii.

burning pictures of our crackling
never-after on this altar, rabbit-hearted
and elephant-eared, hearing all but
what we want to be
called, put down and reviled,
then, here where we meet
in the overwhelm, when jerking
off feels like eating fast
food, you move in the

gloom like a white flower

surrounded by flesh and led
to where what I find
beautiful offends almost accidentally, the
devil has no corner to
hide in a round room,
the way shadows give breath
to statues, ritual sin, you
do not believe but do
you understand? A heart’s assault

a result every time when

the blood does not know
to stop, when mandated to
disappear into history with all
the angel lust of a
cadaver erection, the way a
funeral is a celebration where
you cry, that by weeping
we commit cries unkind eyes
judge to be petulance overemphasized.