Screaming within walls
In this place you are as stained as the imprints
on the walls that surrounds you,
speaking of walls, you mold your own bricks around
yourself such that it appears like you are confined.
He wears you as ornament; you beautify,
crowded with your own dust, you wear.
He carries a handkerchief sprayed with chypre,
He dusts you, you are polished, you tear.
You want to give yourself to fire knowing
only fire would burn you out of sanctity,
dries the foam in between your thighs.
It was better holding a book you realized later
when you flipped through the pages and found
him unusually waiting like a preserved remains.
Selfishly you tore the pages thinking of what could be.
sitting on the bed, the linen shrinking to make
your bosom a hollow star; the feelings are combustible.
the immersion is happening, you heard the sounds
not the voice but the flames dissipating into your space.
Your head on the pillow staring into the remains of the pages,
you lay beside him in his shadows his flames kissing your body,
He teaches you something about flight.