Other people’s words are caught in my throat
A crysalisis of drip coffee, crosswords, bathroom jokes, call-girl cards wedged in phone booths
Sitting making a call in a bar, the smell of leather and whiskey
I like neither
Nor your cologne sprayed too strong, the pungent announcement of you
I don’t like how you lean in to tell a satin story of misfortune
Only to laugh at the death of your hero
Or the reflection of your eyes in that frosted Mai Tai
We’re walking backwards in time
You’re a student of Russian with eyes the color of absynthe and fingers too meaty to carress
Your measure is to swallow the air and push girls into doll clothes and keep them buttoned underneath your simmer
I climbed out
Caught a ferry to Santorini
Ate volcanic ash
Ejected you from my memory like an A-Track
Spooling without sound
If I were a bird, I’d be plaited opaque
Invisible to the blister of your reproach
Emotional attachment suspended in lanterns carrying combustion
Drowning out sleep in the bellies of their firey potential
When trees drop their leaves, we leave ourselves behind
Staring at mosaics, burnt effigies offering carved warning
With no way out, the maze reveals its wormy heart and is blameless
For we select our song, and the scratches we choose to polish
I still wear bobby sox on bare floors, though I know they’ll never wash white
Standing at lunch counters wondering at the savagery and glutony with rumbling stomach and spare change
Choose coffee, you get refills
Choose smoking, it hastens disease and makes you disappear
Into a wreath of smoke playing Led Zeppelin, and there he is again
The baby-faced poser with a need to strike you out
Like a match
Flushed down the toilet into drains
I hear children live underground and never see day
I believe in dragons and magicians and instant noodles
But I don’t believe in you
And your sham foolery spilt like a brand everytime you try
To tailor me obedient
I don’t eat breakfast, I have three desserts
When it’s bedtime I stay awake trying to see through walls
You’re learning Swedish, I’m repairing old clothes
The paint we bought, doesn’t stay on the walls
Everything is temporal, even your hash tasting mouth and the embers of our deceit
I play the dischordant piano, you wrap around me like asbestos
We have run out of time
Taking our clothes off, in windows lit with fury
You walk until the ground shakes you out of linearity
Two tropical birds, their pink feathers glowing against grey city
I could never dive from the top board without belly flopping
And when it’s late and there’s no rest
You try to make amends even as I close the glass door
Sliding down banisters recklessly, feels good
Like a stairway to a new feeling and we howl
For there is no control, only the swiftness of our run
One step ahead, the shadow of wolves racing behind