Pauper

Heavy and foreign as a lead weight
I want to hold you in my hips until the day I die
(secretly)
coat soft pink with soft metal
slick my insides with your poison
and lay out in the sun until my body melts
with you in it

How long until death graces the land again and trees bow,
cracking and white,
in his presence?

I long to shape myself elegantly, catching your heart
on a silver tray
or in the slow blink of a rose at dusk

When, last night I took in your boyish musk and decidedly gathered my clothing
I held my breath for the card-trick sense of control
and heard yours quicken with graceless abandon

(One of these days)
You will spin your silk chalice
You will stop disappointing me
and I will sit watching your translucent cocoon vibrating in ripples from the force of my anticipation

But
for now, my darling
there is nothing I can do

So I tighten my chest around the absence of religion
I clench my fists, grappling for ignorance or belief,
hoping either one will shroud you

and your helplessness.