gypsies

this is feral love
this is sweet love
the kind of love that bites
leaves traces
of deep/
this is honest love
painful love
innocent love
whore love
animal love
black onyx eyes turned white kind of love/
rooftop love
where you on your knees suck the breath,
where the ocean of my cunt comes tinged with sirens,
where your moans hit walls in hushed devils,
where you turn my slaver into wine…
drunk
you drink
and think
of other ways to make sermons leave my mouth
religious love,
my Jesus Christ
my Heavenly Father
my silent prayer
my rust in your mouth
my love in your mouth
carving tunnels
to sleep inside/
warm nights
warm torso,
I drip
your tip
on lips
laughter
no illusions
what life is this?
where we laugh
at our baptism, our Holy union
a purge
ablution
a world of us,
them,
invisible/
hot July L.A. nights are ours
myopic gaze
make skyscrapers quiver
sodden gravel
leave hieroglyphs
on skin

this is ancient

let’s be bold

a grand scale

no secrets, 

just you

just me

no frightened executions

or broken hands

just a soft

and tattered love

the kind that walks on heels/

don’t pick the low hanging fruit/

the bruised fruit

don’t make it easy/

climb/

get dirty/

I’m not for cowards

it keeps changing

…I’ll always tell

the secrets of my family

I’ll always tell you

everything about everything

on my time

because I move

according to our gravity

we bruise our fingers

for the sake of a story

and make love

for the sake of love/

sullied and ashen

we move through the quiet place

where sleep finds you

and turbulence finds me

 

if it feels dead

it’s because it is

my eyes want to close

as I write this/

the sound of the blazing city helps this,

it is a constant reminder

of the volume of my insecurities/

I remember how full I felt with you

and food became unnecessary

I am cosmically bored–I must always have something to decipher

there are no cemeteries here

only flowers

there are whispers and half-eaten fruit

I’ll bite down on my deficiencies and milk them of nutrients

I’m a keepsake,

soft pillows,

wet grass—your childhood

your deathbed…

you taste of mauve

a shadowed weight slackens

but let’s be literal

no more similes/ or allegories

no more hiding behind

no more benign thoughts and better-than fuck fantasies

no more silent understandings

and secret whispered touches in cold summers

no more vapid I-love-you’ s

whispered carelessly/careless whispers

I want smoke and rusted metal words to leave your mouth

I want glass throats to shatter

and your opinions to eat my tongue

no more pretending or understanding

there are bigger things to live for

bigger things to die for

smaller things to swallow

smaller things to evoke

I come from the smallest country in Central America

I know about invisibility

I know about war and rape and everything that carries a stink

but I also know about love and laughter

and the look on your face when you approve of my words

the look on your face when I fit you inside me

neatly tucked/

and I ride you like a wave

and I ride you like a wave

and I ride you like a wave

/drenched and washed ashore

we remember that the sky can live above and below

that when we die we shatter/coagulate

that our mouths only talk when they remember

that words are important

and silence is a gift rarely used

what IS love?

SEX.

Sex.

sex.

Sounds like hex,

makes sense.

We sit in our smut,

two darlings

54 hours apart.

crossing time zones

and toll roads.

unaware

of the importance

of the other.

flash forward

and,

I’m bleeding,

which means

no life lives inside me

except for mine

the heat surrounds me

groin furnace and love kiln

burning at the stake

I am experimenting with the idea of love

and it terrifies me that I might have the wrong approach

to how it should be nurtured.

I’ll overfeed it,

make it parched

overcrowd it,

ignore it

what good is love without constant restoration?

sedatives.

sedate.

sleep.

salivate.

sap.

spittle.

spit.

squirm.

squall.

skull.

squeal.

sexpot.

sextile.

cybersex.

sexless.

sex.

sex.

sex.

a dial tone

laughter

taffy teeth in search of fondness

candy gums, bleeding syrup

a throat of pews, kneeling at my voice

we are not fingers or cunts or cocks

we are hung at the cross

we are debauchery, corruption, decadence

shackled, fettered, chained

a head of crowns with no thorns

we dance with the Universe

two steps forward

two steps back

three steps forward

one step back

five steps forward

seven steps back

but I am instant

I transmute

I hold you in my mouth

a key to my navel

what IS love

if not everything

you fear

and everything

you don’t know?

amniotic

slow.

lava.

melting.

rock.

hard.

hot.

fire.

oozing.

slip of hand.

a river.

small music.

carousel.

an arrow.

pointing sideways.

to shoot out the hips.

gyrating cunt.

milks. the. bad. out.

swallows the rest.

makes love out of it.

new moon.

set intentions for your hair to grow past your ankles.

to carry you when your feet get tired.

to hug you when your arms fail you.

pout.

point.

pucker.

cry.

fall. rise. fall. rise. fall.

keep falling.

keep rising.

Lucifer, please cut all chords of fear of being the mother…

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I,

mother

deep,

kind

gentle,

womb–

slumber in thighs

burrowed,

swallowed oceans,

drowning/

resuscitating

(crawl back where you came from

clarify your insecurities to my pelvis

articulate your plans for the future to my uterus

my cervix will keep your secrets,

it will christen you with saltwater)

I am another type of love,

a match you light on both sides,

in case one blows out

a servant of curves & phalanges/

slow traffic mouth,

poetry tongue

I don’t want metaphors, I want lightning/

immune of headaches and aches and sore joints

anxieties in my chest

are electrical currents whispering

“calm down, it’s all necessary.”

you lick my head of talus,

a curve,

slope,

a getaway

a treacherous climb uphill

into my womb

from such low topography

you are brave

cowardly

strong arms

weak lungs

big cock

small heart

how were you everything I wanted?

how are you everything I’ve never wanted?