it's trivial, they say
but the words beat back and forth
like wings...held
against a wall of bone
that feels like prison
one shot, one time
to try to be....
to be strong enough but feel something
other than hate
but the blue lights are warm
and they fill us up to below our necks
leaving room for heads to be
some other color
maybe mauve
because mauve is hard to picture
when you close your eyes
tell me it's not so
that just one time I'll have to know you
and smell the lilac purple
that blooms from your skin
....even in winter
is to cradle what's left of you in my space
where hearts are generally located
too much to ask
if I could melt you down
to wax and marrow
the blood and gore left for the gnawing of jackals
and just pour you into me
right in through
my gaping
wounds
would you let me?
