Hey there, do you wanna have fun with me

One more recipient,

you receive more.

You hide. I detail

the details, number the legs

wrapped around legs, trace

fingers around the spaces

where loneliness takes it

the hardest. An unattended basket

of folded clothes falls in the spillway

of your unattended heart. One more

loveseat tipped over and silent.

Lonely lips mouth our body of

chances. Hey there.

Body me down below

the broken table. Chalk

the spaces where we can

fall and reload. Body me

full. Wreck me.

Let our elephants desire

a trek through the folded skin

of Hannibal’s escape. March

me through your passes. Let’s fuck

this up and leave crushed

velvet trumpets in our retreat.

(Daily Spam 11.9.11)