I have a secret that pounds the floorboards
A melancholy hum in front of the cervical
Spine, a song as insidious as a voyeur’s
Impatient exhale. I have a secret inside my
DNA a spiraling, enterprising derangement
That summons nightmares from hopelessly
Mortal abstractions, like a chair’s spinster
Shadow. I have a secret molten behind eyes
The color of distressed seas. I have seen too
Much to believe in anything that your artistic
Mouth would pin to the black canvas of a failing
Sexual conquest. I have a secret pressed between
The bulging veins of a tourniqueted existence
My diary runs red and wild with your villainy
I have a vicious white secret smeared obscenely
Between my thighs, proof of your impotence,
Proof that your heart is a bone dry well and if
All that I needed was the vulgar space between
Your legs I would be indecently happy but then I
Too would be empty. I have a secret, you are not
Man enough to satisfy my soul’s enduring needs, not
Man enough to hold me naked in the aftermath of
Our misdeeds and say distinctly that you love me
mindlovemisery 