Bombus Press

Sticky Ellipses, My Favorite Desire

In this mirror: tracing coppery rings
round my eyes. Such spherical interventions
of electrolyte depletion
I have seen in his irises sea-green, or the red-
studded Saturnalia that flashes
in a meadow of skin flecks, bulimic insignia.

I have learned to cherish
the slight astringency of memory,
or how the heart may harden
its aluminous mortality with imminent promise.

This window this glass this kiss
in its soft dust that glosses the thought;
have you often wondered what shadows
will carve the negative sediment
still in recognition? A future
spreads miscellaneous on the gelatine
imitation skin; when he comes to abrade
the planes of this face, all will melt
quite lavishly to matter.

I am hoarding the chastity of tangerine freckles,
peeling the residue of flesh
with every ritz of passion spent, extra
shadows impart strong temporality
as blood sugar gives way
to a fresh wave of this drunk ipseity,
the vomited, soda-sweet ice cream.

What could be clearer than loathing;
the ore-like mollifying
its surface sonata, the sudden lack
of several parts, the ooze of everything?