Tuesday, November 16, 2010

caged tiger

i woke up with the weather sticking to my skin.

last night still powders my hair and
echoes in my tapping fingernails,
ruinous debris of limb-smashing, hot-breathed, god-yes,
dancehall embattlement.

i wanted you. but that's not good enough.

there was a chase like tigers
a clawing, a sabre-toothed trade-off of
exotic animal perfumes and pheromonal purrs.

i breathed in what you breathed out
and my teeth disintegrated
into powders that wafted right up into your nose
taking you to heaven, taking us to the Congo
i mean it must have
how else can i explain the pounding and the
hot scents that burned me and evoked the jaguar howling
when my bones pushed through my skin
in a vain effort to get closer to you,
to be gnawed on.

you wanted me too. but that wasn't good enough.

i slept in my own tent and let myself be coated in indian summer.

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