Kiss me this once and let's
not confuse ourselves with terminology.
You know what I want -- I want
to squeeze your lips with my own,
letting your strawberry lips infect
my teeth and tongue. Afterwards,
let's talk and laugh, and do not shy away
when I rest my head on your lap
and sigh.
Is this not right? Look at me in the eyes and
tell me that you do not love me.
Here we are, hand in hand, and we cannot talk about
the important things, such as the way you hold
the acetone-soaked cotton ball over my nails
and cry, your mouth moving familiarly to Psalm 38
until your throat chokes and all you can say is
Jesus' last words.
And it kills me to see you
jumping like a rabbit in rhythm to the
earthquakes under our feet.
What does the world matter to us?
We, who can move mountains with our love,
we, who know the power from love's true kiss,
we, for whom fairy tales are real--
why do we care what the world thinks?
Let it condemn us, I say!
When the first stone comes,
I'll stand tall and smile,
cradling your starved body in my arms
and I shall never leave you.
For the world is full of lies--
even the heavens only clear when the wicked heat leaves
the earth and shatters the atmosphere
in a fiery burst, until the first stars come out,
winking in their love.
And when I cup your chin in the palm of my hand
and bring your nose to mine
your breath is sweeter than the
tender lily. And when you smile
I can see all the universe
sparkle in your eyes.
