you see, you were opening
a can of worms and what i am trying to say
is that i love
you and the sharp kitchen knife
you are holding in your hand. as if
an afterimage of white wash. adoring
the night falling all around the spaces between
our bodies, tightly. something
creeps up the walls. sighs.
the verb, to kill, the noun, of droughts,
to form a heavenly thought ; "now,
don't say anything back," i said.
be quiet as if in a beauty, yours
constantly peeling and spooling,
always concerning itself with my empty,
rhetoric face, slightly questionable.