Daria Petrilli
He extends a finger
Wedging it between my ribs
As if a muzzle or contract
His brand of love
Is not the sort
That passes openly
Between recipients
It is the sort that festers
Within its host
And bleeds dry
Those foolish enough
To interlope
I thought that I
Could sustain you
On juxtaposition
Entering your darkness
Without spilling a drop
But gravity proved
Too confrontational
(Fragments rarely
Invoke a worthy orbit)
We’re at an impasse
An afterbirth embedded
Into the trenches of
Our trenchant lungs
Whenever we kiss
The flames rise up
Like the red fronds
Of a byzantine oasis
I know it’s meaningless
But the heat abates,
For a time, the chill
Of an imminent dearth
*
I can’t seem to shake this block
mindlovemisery 