Pantun Patah Hati II

dengan penuh ghairah

aku berjilam

bibirmu yang bersalut madu.

oh sayang,

pelukanmu umpama lautan

yang melemaskan,

cintamu bagai gelombang hangat

yang menghempaskan.

badan dan jiwaku bersenandung

euforia,

tanganku meraba-raba tulangmu

yang berat dengan

hawa nafsu,

aku mencium rusukmu

sambil menggeritik

keinginan.

Dear Cesare,

I was perfect. I was bloody perfect until you showed up in your cardinal robes (fuck you no one's supposed to look sexy in a cardinal robe dammit) and strutted around my carefully planned out schedule. I was an angel gazing peacefully down at the chaos in the human realm and I was sadistically happy until you ripped off my wings and I plunged into the wilderness.

And in that madhouse of disorderliness, I spent an entire day watching movies; well watching you and your fucking tight ass and your beautifully sculpted back and shit you shall not distract me!!!

Damn you Cesare Borgia, you devil.

incoherence is what you do to me

you invade my mind,
fuck this my mind is too incoherent
for comprehensible sentences
it’s all
cesare cesare cesare
between litanies of et in arcadia ego
and tremens factus sum ego
(insert adjectives that... well, insert verb)
no no i don’t know what i’m saying
because he’s not pretty, he’s not
he’s dark and he’s morbid
and god you’re so sad why’re you so sad?
you know i love sad men
and say it, say it once more, twice more, thrice,
a thousand times more
say "i'd die"
because you said it with such calmness,
such matter-of-factness
but you’re no monster, cesare borgia,
are you?
only you must be, to prowl in my head all day
and consume my thoughts all night.
you must be, must be,
cesare,
eleison.

dear cesare,

nessuno.

I am nobody, you said in that sad sad tone
I am nothing, and the way you said it, the stars would
fall from the sky from crying too hard, all the while wiping stellar-snot
from their coruscant faces.

I couldn’t say anything, couldn’t reassure you,
wrap my arms around you and negate you
because you are. You are nothing.
You are conspicuously, unapologetically
non-existent.

And when I turned around to face you there was only
the enveloping darkness - that
and the unbearable, unforgiving coldness
of loneliness.

i love you as certain dark things are to be loved

i cannot write poetry about you.
you, whom i’ve known for all but
thirty-five hours.
but these were hours of lust and desire and
covetousness and these feelings
are my dearest, most loyal friends.

so i said, between swoons and sighs,
my heathen, you are dark tonight;
you are black as your heart, black as your pitiless eyes
burning into mine
as you grind me - oh grind me to dust,
to small particles of nothingness
yes, nothingness,
for ever and ever,
amen. (for you love that word, do you not?)

libera me, domine, de morte aeterna,
amen.
always these words, my heretic, my darling,
my cesare.
are you that afraid of the eternal slumber?

i cannot write poetry about you,
because the thought of you renders me febrile,
and words and coherence elude me.
and only your apocalyptic latin hymns
will soothe my feverish soul.

Haiku Love Story

I've been sucking on my thumb again

Sleeping

Trying to remember you. 

why i do not hate cersei lannister as much as i should:

This (and more) Will Explain Why I'm MIA

I really shouldn’t be here because

My ass cheeks hurt

From sitting too long in this

Plastic chair that I should

Never have bought.

She told me so

And I imagine the blood

Clotting in my ass, as

My weight presses down on it

And the cells scream for oxygen

The way I scream for you

And for ice-cream
And my eyes scream
and my eyes cream. 

But I can’t

I can’t get up

Because I have two and a half more

Chapters of anthropology to study

For a midterm that is

Too close for comfort.

And still here I am

Writing about things that

Make no sense

And too-intimate details

About my personified ass.

Happy Birthday, Armand

you are an event horizon,
a perfect black body
of gravitational monstrosity.
and i would never
be able to escape you.

you are a stellar black hole,
into which i
                     fell
               and
                          f
                            ell
and i'm
             fa
                 l
                     l
                  i
              n
                     g still.

i am alice spiralling into
a twisted dream
from which i'll never
wake.

you are the arcane, impenetrable fissure
in the spacetime continuum.
trapped in you,
i was ripped into shreds but
upon reaching
spacetime singularity
i have transcended
universes.

A Song of Marrows

i break your bones for breakfast

snapping into thirds your

fragile vertebral column.

i name your cervical vertebrae mary,

draw a pocket knife

and carve on it my name 
and words that i've never gotten around saying. 
S-O-R-R-Y over and over again
until the words overlap each other
and my fingers are coated with a fine layer of your
osseous dust. 

i name your thoracic vertebrae susan,

kiss it reverently

and burn it in a sacrificial flame.

the smoke curls smell of winter and faded dreams and
long hours of crying late into the night when
you thought i was asleep. 
i keep the ashes in your vintage
lidove umeni matchbox. 

i name your lumbar vertebrae katie,

braise it in pinot-noir with a dash of paprika,
whisk olive oil and capers and shallots
into the wine reduction. 
drizzle it lovingly over the crevices of your vertebrae

and suck the living hell out of

you. 

your kyphotic sacrum sits on the table

beside my bed 

because i am now alone.