flipside

upside down, the world hangs in ardor. my falsetto is silent as I preach love to the tiny ants that reside in my bones. the cracks on the sidewalk feed me lies as I fill spoonfuls of life’s wisdom into my breast. the dawn is red and full of pieces of you that remind me of us and I have hung each of them separately, in the mist out to dry. (I used to paint the platform you walked upon with shades of mauve and gold but now I dissuade the present from taunting me of your essence. I dream in circles, locking myself out of the nightmares I continually keep on hold.) I gorge myself in the feast of life on vampy kisses and heated sheets. and as I move ahead, I leave you behind. the printed moon collapses on my forehead when I stand just right in its light … this reminds me of the heart I used to let you keep, so convinced your perfection would continue to hold. (I buried the last of you last night … in the brilliant sunshine that I found. at midnight, your corpse came running naked through my house. I clamped him down, I strangled him and I fed him to thieves that watched in silent ecstasy.) I am no longer haunted by the things I used to be. I have taken hold of myself and taught her to love exclusively. perhaps devoid of you, in the aftermath of the storm, I munch now on a sweet strand of bamboo who is stronger than the fiercest wind I have ever come to know.