say nothing sweet
i was born with a
transnational sweet tooth
it carried me
oceans away from you
those rich, sweet nothings
came in pools and pools of high life
swollen around my ankles
until i was deep in it
about a hundred foot deep in it
intimate whispers imitating the world
possibly meaning something
meaning what? nothing true, nothing
i was engaged to a shout
of daily thought: i am something new today
until it is all that i am
i am a pond filled with ducklings
the story always offended me anyway
i imagined being the ugly one
saying too much and couldn’t pretend
to have sympathy: to keep my mouth shut
the moral got caught up in itself
detangled years later in the shower
on the floor with christmas lights in-hand
suddenly i was so aware of my limbs
their necessity, their polished glint
and dependence on me
i thought that’s far enough
and returned wet but easily into the world
saw one ugly/pretty lorikeet feed all of london
and tried to replicate the magic
but i didn’t know where to start
for beginning and end were unanimous
i modelled my life after yours, i hardened
to change
gardened when the soil was stiff
i milked the earth of its prayer
watched it bucket down violently
on a wandering prude
like me she was defensive
covered herself in herself
this lethal weapon
does not know of sensuality
she bites herself in her sleep
wantonly: this is mythology
this is magic one cannot replicate
but my apartment had a door
about to break its own hinges
and i had a life to attend to
i’d hear it creaking
and think it was you — coming back for the only kill
i was yet to take
neither of us could finish the job
i took some time off then
i got into breeding race horses for a living
but i traded them all
for a ticket to see this place again
to hear a person say oh loudly in the hallway
not a sigh, not a word
to worry about small traces of remedy on the railing
what would i do with a cure?
i would show my monstrous legs
I’d lie beneath the influx of hunger, humiliation rituals, humility
food changing shape, colour
changing everything so i could benchpress a watercress
for a little while, half a second, to say honestly: this is as honest
as you’ll get me
to be there again afraid
the way i was in the moment, both old and young
afraid of affection and peril
and being topless: a right prude
i thought i could be into that
or even bloody magic
but i ended up in the hospital
i ended up cursed and under constant watch
nobody ever told me what they were looking for
it held more mystery to me than tenderness
i was always a cat stretching long-limbed
with it’s back to you
i wanted ecstasy without revelations
it’s sympathetic aftertaste
to come full circle
and swallow me back up into heaven
