I Raise My Pelvis To God So

I Will Be Steel! I Will Build A Steel Bridge Over My Need! I Will Build A Bomb Shelter Over My Heart! But My Future Is A Secret. It Is As Shy As A Mole.

Mood Can Be As Important As Sense.

Do You Like Me?” No Answer. Silence Bounced, Fell Off His Tongue And Sat Between Us And Clogged My Throat. It Slaughtered My Trust. It Tore Cigarettes Out Of My Mouth. We Exchanged Blind Words, And I Did Not Cry, I Did Not Beg, But Blackness Filled My Ears, Blackness Lunged In My Heart, And Something That Had Been Good, A Sort Of Kindly Oxygen, Turned Into A Gas Oven.

I Love The Word Warm. It Is Almost Unbearable-- So Moist And Breathlike.

At Six I Lived In A Graveyard Full Of Dolls, Avoiding Myself, My Body, The Suspect In Its Grotesque House.