Lowe Loup

You whom all things gaze upon- admire my oak casked opulence, liquefied amber, gestated for months, now swirling in serpentine glass; all things thine. Listen to me, hear my icicle whisper- embrace me – accept me into your body, let me enflame you. Love my burn and kiss me.
...

My arms shackled themselves around your neck
clutching at the collar of your coat
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You left me here.
Pulling me away
...

Whispers of nicotine form
our only conversation
...

You sit alone in the same cracked leather Lazy-Boy Dad did.
Your Skoal stained fingertips rubbing the dark violet crescents beneath your lashes.
...

My pupils stare back at me in the mirror
Like some parody of a Rolling Stones song.
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The first time I got shot down
I was lucky
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I met you on my seventh birthday,
two months after yours.
We grew up together on the beach,
Crashing headlong into the surf.
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Astaticism on a dance floor
...

Our trysts
are razor blade martinis
half drunk and
olive-juice full.
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I awake to a world tinted green,
grass and men polymerize,
...