This Thing

Audio for the Poem ( the audio isnt the best but the reading is good)

this thing

 

this thing we are doing

like a knife

 

removing muscle from

bone

 

flesh of self

like pages

of a book

scattered across

the room.

 

We stand naked.

 

revealed whiteness

of heart / bone.

 

In a room of

sloughed

masks,

scars,

 

clothed

disappointments,

old love letters,

histories-

 

This thing we are doing –

with its quiet

unspoken bone embracing

reluctance  –  that is

 

butchered  gently

with a kiss,

 

a glass of wine,

 

by tears like miniature

comets illuminated by dashboard lights.

their pearlescent tails reaching

back to before you and I

 

Or

 

by breathing matched like

green waves of a phosphorous tide.

 

this thing we are doing

this thing.

 

this unraveling

of two roses blurring

 

under a moon

starved night.

 

this

thing

.

 

.
.
.

a phosphorus tide

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