Heavyheavy in your arms, with love spilled red onto your sleeves--
my eyes are bound to the grim way you set your shoulders into the shovel,
and I hold myself close to the painter as he strokes glaze onto my irises,
readying me for hellfire;
I watch you as he does, thinking.
You carry me gently, caress limp hair with coarse fingers and
set me into the sounds of soil; gripping the sides of my shoulders with
rigor mortis fingers, there's a cross on my chest--
and I wonder why there isn't a god, why they haven't come and where the light is.
(Why is everything still so dark?)
Setting into ceramic and stone and sweet calcification,
I feel mindlessness settle under my breastbone and
I trust that you'll decorate the tips of my skin with petals,
even if they are only flowered guilts--
even if they aren't really for me at all.
I want to speak; I want to make
you promise that you'll bury me softly in your heart, so wicked and divine.
I want to live in the callouses I've left behind, broken and bleeding, and I want to
feel you wipe the tears away.
