come, love

[schaufemweg]

pop the cork you screwed into my forehead,
blow your steam
and your top off too
and take my last breath with it,
whatever it takes to un-scream the moon
you hang us from
just to bathe you in its surrogate light
with sponges so lithely wrung
from my fingers

Comments

[schaufemweg]

and thanks to the precious one on the other end of the phone last night. i'll see you soon indeed.

tender

[schaufemweg]

this could perhaps read: pop the cork/you screwed into my life, but i'm weary of adjustments and too torn for fix-up jobs. you cut me with enough questions already, but i don't think you really want them answered. do you just want to watch me dodge your sharp grey blades? why do you keep throwing knives?
i'm looking right into your eyes looking into mine as you wince at your reflection, then preen yourself in its agony. yes, we're in a tender place, but there is more flesh beyond the wound than within. why aren't you willing to laugh at that? i'll play (i'm willing, i'm a thrill) if you'll tell me the game, and if it involves loving you.
i won't trade sympathy for hands that wrap my heart like a neck. the well of our time here is deeper than you'll see, but too narrow for the cheap blades of your wishes.
i'm shutting the door. will you step in, or continue to gape piercingly from the threshold?

words of prey

[schaufemweg]