1-9-13
here
you smell of bergamot, or galuises tobacco
and
i finally succomb to the cul in my throat,
I
say, “I think I love you...”
you
wanted to try it out like a new pair of shoes
you
said, “ i love you nicholas rivers,...”
but
i had already begun to hear your lovesong
your
voice was like honey and i wanted to drink you
until
a spiders web of entropy consumed the veins within me
yielding
to you toads my garrulous tongue
turns
it into a carnation bud
bursting
and ripe like wet mangoes