The seed he buried now blossoms with a cyanide scent,
Our eyes are turpentine-bright with a testosterone smile.
You take the small of my back and you break glass for me,
Your hand upon my shoulder and your lip on my ear,
Downstairs the conquest of ephebophilia,
Up here the distance is gone and I’m tense
As your breath slowly greets mine,
My brittle feelings crumble like carbon,
Bathetic whispers of beauty blacken my hands,
Like I know you led me astray,
Like I blush with shame,
Then you fade to the swelling breast of people,
Later I imagine the aggrieved girl,
The victim,
She has thin wrists that know you better than I do
And fine blond hair, too feminine to deserve you.
Later I am told you left with the one engaged to be married,
I wake up with the mattress covered in blood.
I know the man I’ll henceforth have tenfold,
The afterthought of guilty masturbation
Hot and achy- I dare myself to forget you,
I can trace this love-line to the first declarations of handsomeness and singing printed songs with you,
Tonight I sever the skein you left.
Here you come- to take me from the comfort in isolation I know,
You are the gremlin I should hate most – thrust my hands against your chest and push you away,
(Instead your chest is firmer than I thought and together we’re away and I wish you had wronged me with a greater and more obvious evil so I wouldn’t lie to myself and my friends when I say I don’t think of you anymore).