Amorous to a Being that is Not

You sighed a disappointed thing

The fog of your breath like hefty steam

You saw me standing there, unperturbed

Unperturbed, when I saw you standing there naked

I wasn’t transfixed by how your feelings moved your body

And that seemed to startle you to the core, so deeply

I could tell that your bones were aching for an intimate transformation

You wanted something or someone to make you new

The need from your bones to mold right up against someone else’s

Bones that wouldn’t be mine anytime soon

You have a keening dream

For another to make you soft and to crave, like flies to a bloodied seam

Love into a stream, a romance into the meaning of what’s to be deemed

I simply can’t be the beautiful found jewel in the deep

Nor the warm blanket for your sleep

My hands - you want calluses upon my palms from your skin

My hands - which would rather be left scorched from hot coffee in a tin

You’re your own apocalypse

You do know that, right?

Your own recreation and undoin’

Do you care anymore about the thing that follows you?

Follows you into your bedroom late at night

And if It’s there for you to be lovin’ or something for you to put down right?

You’re a heart beating with a limp

Regardless if I caused the wound

You’ll need to splinter it up, darling

Smother all of it up in a bandage and then released from the womb

And don't give yourself the chance, babe

To feel like nothing crammed into baggage or deserving to be entombed

Will you let yourself be taken over, like the ashen bodies laying in Pompeii?

Cold, sleepy with ignorance, and indefinitely afraid?

The keening dream you end up loathing, before you take a weed-whacker to the next beautiful bluejay