To my lord, my god,
Upon my fingertips are children's faces, smiling
Their lips bluing as I smother them
With the breasts of nameless women
Their gasps muffled
By my silence, my ecstasy
To my friend, my lover,
My bones feel like cotton
As I collapse in a corner underneath my love for you
Naked, watching
A line of men forming at the foot of your bed
I am making love to this image
To my child, my daughter,
I smash my skull against the wall of the past
Hoping regret and shame are more powerful than science
Hoping the pain I feel is forgiveness
Hoping beer and blood and smoke
Will taste like the love I still do not deserve
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