3 variations on a virtue


Leave this world. Leave it. There is nothing for you here child, nothing that will satisfy the heart that’s in your soft-boned chest. Expect no protection, no reflection, no love, no sound. Not ’til that heart beats through your breast. When that throat pulses it will fire the eyes and they will leave this world first, if you don’t, if you don’t. You must leave it now; if you hesitate there will be no turning back, its hooks in you and you will drown in the din of all the others around you. Leave child, leave. Now. Leave, child, leave. Take the end into your hands while they still have bones within.

Your eyes, child. They’re leaving. They’re floating off, your body still. Awaken in blackness. In this you are.
Your eyes, child. They’re gone.
Your body a shell. More empty than those eyes now you are hollow and there is nothing in this world that can fill you.

It is far too late.


for pages of ink
her lost eyes open
for eyes, this queen
has left the world cold

to exist here a thrush
a sunset, a wife
to remain here unbound
just a child who dies

for a kiss does she blink
and leaves her mouth open
for a moment this queen
a whore to be sold


standing at the edge of a cliff
spitting into the abyss
spitting rocks into the oceans below, all cum and piss
split your lips again and part the earth
open the world
let flow the waters, the winds
angel of the lord holding up one corner of the heavens
you babe in white a whore and a virgin
mother mary you are all versions
sleep soft
wake not
if your dream ends all creation will rend
and neither god nor i could stop this

so here we are
brothers in arms
standing on the cliff watching the waves throw themselves against you
you who creates this ocean
just by parting your lips
there is no end to this
spitting our teeth into the abyss


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