Rebel against the truest lie you ever tell; 

     you’ll never be good enough 

For what is enough?

What is good?

And never is dead against the flesh of now 



Lingering here

Lingering here in folds of sheets

tossled and cast haphazardly 

is the scent of your touch 

remains of your breath

intensity of your stare 

and memory of your arms 

guarding against the cold and bitter dark

to hold the weight of our universes;

I exhale and find peaceful sleep

I can only say this once

I can only say this once

Then the words will resonate at a

Different frequency

a sound heard twice from the dark side

Of the bedroom

First the cat then a thief come

To steal dreams you abandoned on

pillows next door to your phone.

Only once, I will speak the soul of a verb and the flesh of noun

Before the memory I meant

Is a lamented bruise of a tattoo

Fading into the age of skin too old to care:

I regret nothing of you, love.