claire iii

your beaute est a moi

toute le tempe

snowflakes drifting into a cyclone

dry cycle

whirl

your hair blinds me as a bull is blinded

RED

in the mind with REDRUM

beautiful, delicate calligraphy of your hair

kisses driven to madness ( i drown my memory

in you and lose my sanity, the buttons unloosed by your mind automatic

for the people

STOP

the nyaids will eat us

and echo will tell everyone as she cannot keep her mouth shut,

herfeetrunningallsippers.

 

i don't know what it is about you

that drives me mad with spring desire

usually spring

although i castrate myself

i cannot stop myself from hypnotically looking at young women

their sighs as explosive as sexual afterthoughts

written on newspaper trains of time

time being endlessly present

and driving me mad with its mad, unending speed,

the young girls of avignon

spring,

i must have been a primitive priest in another lifetime

casting your women to death

so that crops will grow

a slut is even a sacrifice, after she provides renewal and gets our blood pumping

we kill her reputation

for our guilt.

 

but you, you spread out the universe for me and pluck a hole in it

and i go through knowing

black holes

admit no return

and you renew me for a small fee.

 

the way you walk, the way you talk

your superb, conniving intelligence unsettles me and i look within

see only confusion and caring

behind that thick wall

but business is not a home

and you never want to make it a home,

business is always war...

 

so let me not ask for a goodbye kiss, let me

not regret missing you

my spring fling,

you are more divine than a lineament of gold

lined with all the colors of time

through which the eternal sleep of the dead

occurs...

thank you for letting me go.