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Poems
#1
I don't write as many poems as I used to - when I do, they're now usually very short, and usually metaphors for sex. Here's a couple.

"God"

[I]You collect at the back of my throat, and your body names mine in the dark,

Make me bleed like a girl, something pitch black that you fumble within,

The night is so big, and your face in the light of the television:

That, that must be what God looks like.



"Killing My Boy"

That, that must be what God looks like.

His mouth was open when I set him on fire,

And he needed no eyes to catch the light,

His arms revolved in a smog of particles,

Scream as raw as prayer and drowned out as I

In a Startling shimmer of time collapsing,

And when it is over, he's in my head.[/I]

"Kissfelt"

Your thumb turns the page of my lips and my chin,

Uprooting the gasp of my eyelids in full bloom,

A mouth of yours collects my jawline, and the shiver tells.
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