Undone

I made a heart warmer.

It burrowed, clung and made itself at home.

the colour of your eyes lived in the left ventricle, 

the shape of your nose, your jaw line

the softness of your hair in the rooms.

Your shoulders and arms pumped the valves, 

your thumb, the thighs, belly, 

the smell of your cock occupied the veins.

unravel me, you said, only you can,

I pull at the strings of the knit  

a heap of nothing emerges   

black scratches on paper 

like the nothing you wanted to feel while you kissed me.

undone, my heart breathes deep, awaiting winter days

fresh, unwrapped, 

burnt to crisps no more along the edges

where you lived.

After the Pie

Your cock smells of soap and cock

and afterward? Still a mystery. 

I didn't take the time

and why don't I stop here,

why am I serving dessert

when I mean to give up only my ripe cherry lips,

the sign of goodness to come?

I move like a robot on a path that has led me nowhere before,

stricken by blank thoughts

by your surprise presence. 

You say little.

Not to confuse the past with present talk,

but you dig in with great appetite, 

right there in the dark hot room.

(I used to love it.)

I lead your hand. Feel this, I say.

(That's new.)

I hear only your breath  

and then we part, composed, and separated 

by clothes, language, cities, lives.