From the beginning
I knew pain, neglect, distrust.
How weak, how penitent am I
that I bow my pride to you.
Please, will you offer relief
if I beg and flatter ‘til suns
fade and moons crumble to dust,
for me, this foolish pained man?
Inside I am sore, so sorry-
weary of living beside my hateful,
lonely shadow who dares not reckon
for me: unholy, empty, impure.
But you, my dear, fill me up
to the brim with cool, clear
please ease the ache of my dried insides.
* * * * * * * *
For your pains, love, presented
with razor-sweet tongue-crippling smiles
Hard Candy for Bitter Wounds
to soothe you to the gallows.
Savor the metallic-laced taste
masked by succulent shine,
the tantalizing innocence of
young, freckled flesh.
Walk into the wolf-trap
and writhe no more,
but know that an audience watches
you come undone in shame.
No fortified diamond,
no silver plea can loosen the grip
of the noose
which you so willingly knelt for.
Don’t weep now, Bitter Man,
as the amber-encased razor
protrudes from dissolved
candy, cuts open tender flesh.
It was always what you begged for,
My Love, to end in such a way.
Your worship reversed, I kneel to
the pendulum god on the beloved apple tree.