horrorifying questions to ask your lover

have you too seen the top of the ivory tower? that acute bliss of creation, made right from your own mouth? the breast which hangs half-heartedly from the towel? the suspension of disbelief until it arrives quite like a friend?

have you too willed yourself to bleeding heels and heavy breath, gentle forward fall into a nice gnawing feeling?
that feeling like the air vent, the trapped piece of plastic that wags it’s tail for you in the wind; in the mouth of something once alive.

have you too watched the newspaper boy bleed as he stumbled, peddling far away from your front-lawn?
have you not wished to apologise for the delivery of a spoiled humanity, or the awkward,
defeaning in-composure of not falling in love?
but also it’s unkept completeness. how lucky i am to only want her. to listen and hunger for a voice, nothing on or underneath.

haven’t you too told nobody about our brisk friction of being?
don’t you know that i cannot love anything like i love me? and don’t i know it? so why do i try? my desperation exceeds reality; i exist in voids of excessive want.
between ‘i am,’ and ‘there is not’, i am in the way of rejection. i hunt for the confused truth, but i have been lying all along.
have you seen me practice on god? i am tired, god. i fool him.

have you too found yourself underwhelmed by love, too? of course not. not even by is this all it is? or do you dream well? do you dream better than me, i mean? please promise me nothing. please do not ask to hold my hand or kiss me ever again: i may lose my delicate grasp on the edge of the void.
i may really begin to think about why that could be, and don’t you know that would kill me?
don’t you know love will kill me if i do not confuse it for a curse of nature?