I dine on dendrites and cherry blossoms,
Sipping tea from an earthenware mug.
The puritan in me navigating the clown
Transposed in your upside down smile.
My wounds burst like glass from a windshield
The cacophony of your laughter instilling
A seal in my fleecy, vestigial heart.
The sound of our screams filling
One another like bowls of whipping cream
We tumble over confectioneries
And conversations that perspire.
When I shut my eyes
I remember that the voices
Inside are mine
Even if the frequencies emitted
Do not correspond
To any known tendency.
Linoleum is the saddest of all compromises,
Cold and sparing against our ill-begotten flesh
I should have ridden you bareback
Into the garden, beating your name into frenzy
My fingers dripping with voodoo and pollen
My lips a very precise shade of zeitgeist
As if the clock could clone our sacred places
And shoot them out in a vertiginous stream.