Body

Dear body of mine,
I must apologize for mistreating you
for putting in you
what I should have spit out
cholesterol and pills
bad food and worse people
defeated thoughts and
dirty habits that stuck
gum-like in the stomach
rotting in you for years
and
always too much salt with
not enough sugar.

For not letting you run
ungainly and hurtling
down grassy slopes or
none-too-carefully through
forests clogged with foot-traps or
letting you leap, uncontrolled
uproariously
when I felt the restlessness
singing a rhythm in my limbs
and
for dancing too much for others
and not enough for us.

For occasionally despising you
wishing parts of you away - all that
time spent in front of the
mirrors of others' eyes
I could not see the beauty in you
meant only for mine
then expecting you to serve me
when I needed you again
kept you living for
one look of satisfaction that
when given, only meant
I congratulated myself.

For falling when you wanted to climb
for resting when you wanted to push
for the disconnect between body and mind
between love of you, body and body-love
for the fire,
for the blame,
for the wire,
for the pain
for never forgiving that one time
we fell, slipped, bobbled
for letting you take the risks and
reaping the rewards with your hands.

Yet I know you forgive me;
what can cells do but reconnect?
I more than love you, so
forgive me when I
do it all again tomorrow; but, someday:
I will push off
from the earth
into the shock of waves
swim kick and float
into the deep, into a bright sun
until you have peace.

~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reptile

Every high-noon night
is just cold enough
that he dances to feel
heat move within him.

One body to body collision
is all it takes to break him.
Jarring loose the memory
of coveting hands
slick with sweat
stroking him
dulling his polish.

His sure steps falter
as his body quick-shakes
and he can't meet
even his own gaze
in the mirror.

As he cuts the fingerprints
out of his own flesh
Strata of shame
pile up on the ground
like discarded layers
of reptile skins.

Shells he has outgrown
while searching for a home.
None survive more than one season
The bitterness he swallows
rots them away
from the inside out.

He holds thin husks
up to the light,
turning them over and over;
searching for some meaning.
Seeing runes and figures
in careless scratches.
Finding significance
in the number of scales
he once wore.

Swaddled in a nightmare
his fingers clutch too hard
He wakes to feel dust
sliding between his palms
and waits for dark.

Slithering and slinking
his way across the floor,
he tastes out a rhythm with his tongue
Jagged snippets of shell
bite his heels.

Willfully, he closes pounding ears
to suggestions of ways
- more conventional, more vile -
of keeping the ice
out of his smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~

Godzilla has nothing on this monster... <-- Yet More Poetry

Licorice

I feel like licorice, the way
my ribs rub together when I bend.
Stinging and fierce
in your throat, but too limp
to struggle for release.
God, does the friction
of bone on bone
ever hurt.

For so long I lacked the words
to give life
to my suspicions about dead things.
Before, mania held my hand,
tugging always to
pull me forward
reaching behind my neck
to drag me on.

I made of my mind a slippery, blank canvas
from first heated glance to last moan.
Yet something always stood
around the corner,
hidden in the cracks of the
next sidewalk square,
waiting for me in the depths
of tomorrow's sleep.

All the while
I kept moving so swiftly,
regrets harmlessly
striking my flanks,
sliding off me like mouthless remoras.
No rough grooves or wrinkles
on my perfect mask
for them to grasp.

I refuse to let you watch
the cracks spreading
beneath the icing,
striking to the filling, to the
burnt layer stuck to the pan,
scrubbed and worried at for hours,
freed from filth
only to be thrown away.

I move the heavens to keep you
innocent of the strangeness
lurking in my material.
I will not bind
your sympathy to my arm
wear it into battle
against my past.
Through sacrifice, I spare your virtue.

Even when alone
I feel like licorice, with
ridges shifting below my skin.
I can not settle
into this twisted body
the curves do not
fit their spaces
my tendons are too long for their bones.

The clenching of muscles
holds me hard
even when I do not dream.
So I shift my ribs, press on a bruise,
attempt to mutate
to the will of the world.
It hurts, doesn't it,
this friction of bone on bone?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~AEW~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~