Cut Me Swordplay, Cut Me All the Time

I.

 

O treasured sums! (We are)—

the corporal stars! (We are)—

Please!—chase not the dreams,

the dreams wavering beneath seams

 

with hands: splitting

water—with hands,

we dig into each other’s

atoms, scourge what was

taken. Surface bending…

in us…now break. Surface

coming awake.

 

II.

 

Sometimes

she seeps from my mouth.

Once nestled deep…

trapped in a crook

of mind, I learned

once to bruise such weak,

common torrents

before a girl need lift

a foot.

 

She slumbers like

the lion all trussed

in summer’s flower—

tread lightly, tread on bare feet.

Leave notes in a tome…

like words could ever

save you from a lover—

haunts every step you take—

a few missing blades

on the earth.

 

III.

 

Nothing keeps

like a sad heart—it

kisses eyes and

wishes me good night,

too late.

Instead, I find myself

alone with her eyes.

 

Too long, says she, too long

we will be—

longer foes than lovers

we shall be.

 

A face held close:

strokes an opening with

dark paint on lips and

I can just taste her sword

through the chemicals

like a cut

on the roof

of my mouth.

 

 

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