Please be
Quiet
Please
I’m trying to
Listen to the
Mimes
Paying attention
Because there is
A clarity to
the things they say
Sit down with me
And we will
Watch them together
Like stars
Or the soft fall of leaves.
Have them teach us
The way
Forward.
Here in the dark,
Roar of tires on the asphalt
Wondering where my God is,
And when He will pay me back
What He owes me
The musk of petroleum,
Endless packed bursts of despairing sweat
As I pretend all those episodes
of crime procedural dramas taught me
anything
But scripts need the suspect not to call
Their lawyer
And my hustle remains in place
Finding a dark comfort in knowing
This is how it ends.
From a business perspective,
It’s counter-intuitive but I’ve got cigarettes and
They didn’t tie my hands
And people see the beard and the easy manner
Don’t seem to get it all comes
Because I know my monsters
My darkness
And even my woman asked me,
And I answered
But still should’ve listened to her
Otherwise
I wouldn’t
Be
Here
In the first place
But like any good monster
I need a lair
To wait the day out.
No matter who comes in
I’ll be leaving with blood
On my teeth.
carved to order
By sacrifices made
Been sold for love
And sent to the salt
Mines
All you’ve asked is to be seen
Until you saw yourself
And to know the pleasure
Of being wanted
Not needed
Bearing the burden
Still sometimes struggling
But borne with strength
This too,shall pass
Through to sweetness
And again
should such flowers fail
to bloom,
remember you’re real
No matter who carved you
Planed the rough parts
Smooth and pleasing to touch
And beneath the right lights
You’re
Almost
Real
The warm sweetness of your skin
Sometimes the want makes it
difficult not to tear you away
ravish you until you’re insensible
stretching out each moment
as you tremble beneath my rough hands
gentle in the tender places
a musician’s hand
an artist’s eye
a poet’s tongue
all once the art has been made
at play against your skin
you might tire of my weakness in time,
but the strength which flows through me,
lets you alone at my whim
and when the urge occurs,
i would take you
over and over
until the walls dripped with sweat
and you,
supine and glorious,
beg me enough
enough
enough
Apart from things
Which no longer hurt
Bled until my limbs grew numb
But walked until it clotted
There’s more to me
Than my failings
Temporary flaws
Burned to flakes of white ash
In the fire of my determination,
so you see,
I am careful and quiet
In my appreciation
a warm arrogance
and informed by
the quiet knowledge
I know I will survive
But touch my broken places
I’m stronger there
And does your touch
Reach past to the warmth
Which exudes there
Makes your palms damp
With its roiling heat.
cover you in candyskin
so i can eat it off you
composed of licks
like masterful brushstrokes
against canvas
throb against me
because here,
i am the slow roll of thunder
building to a point where
you turn me into an animal
every nerve wired and directed
towards the release
inside you
but the storm builds
and the charge grows
trembling and thickening
pin you to the bed
force your thighs apart
because my want
is the path through the woods
and when i lay you down
sometimes rough with the want
you are not at grandmother’s house
but with a wolf
and so my tongue licks slow
warm and languid
cover you in candyskin
so i can eat it off you
It’s in the breath
Thickened air
Each one lends weight
To the last
Carved over being grown
And all you need do
Is impress me as to
Whether I give the gift
Of myself to you
Laugh, call me arrogant
But no woman wants a lovable loser,
Sure, settle but you’ve done that,
And although I am not tuxedo and roses,
I am what nightmares run from,
You can feel small
Resting against me
My irrational self-confidence,
Isn’t so irrational
When my touch
Brings a small whimper to
The cupids bow of your lips
And I’m not insecure,
Because that implies
I’m not good enough,
And I am,
Not perfection because that’s dull and impossible,
You’d think I was some monster wearing a golden mask,
Rather than a beast who tried being a Prince,
And realised he could still be a beast
Without stockings or powdered wigs,
My touch leaves marks,
But they’re sigils,
Brands of intention which glow
When you see my face
Hear my voice
Say
My
Name.
