he sat, in a wisplike breath
living the recurrence of broken glass panes
his hair brushed to imperfection
bodily sinews bled of want
the wings of his sleep wrinkled
around the phantom of my broken ship
his eyes were but hidden real, like gemstones
caught in carves, shapes and skin
I've watched him untying
his venous knots to hunger inside
the stories of labia cuts
stolen kisses around the doorway
to my darkness of forever
knobs were caught rusting by the sun.
I've dressed in a tale
and buttoned up Venus dreaming.
His smile, repeated in me
an old gramophone cracking
the grass still moving the forgotten night
where sheer white curtains bled his breath
I've loved and loved the eyes and his dried sweat
till he was a slave, a god, and
the Adonis undone.