Saturday, February 12, 2011

M.D.

A swell in blood pressure
Soaks through the tables
Of a disposable weekend vice,
Pooling across a wreck of unruly smiles
And lazy eyelash love
To sink its teeth in soft confessions

The lights dim further down our bodies  
And lace our hands in fingertip memory:
I'm running my mind over your mouth
To recall the way you taste,
Your kiss tempting poison and pills
In the same uneasy breath...

If we could all seal our lips
And prescribe opiates to our hearts,
We could trade doctorates for liquid cures
And censorship for talkshow truth.

Every tongue-slide seeking therapy
Could turn our mouths into educated scholars
With unlicensed intentions
And literary pasts
Where our names would only be remembered
To fit each of our faces.

A medical itinerary will define our psychology,
Wire every colour in a heartbeat
To play amongst our words
And sleep outside the doors of our ears
Because science seems to hold more logic
Than the loveless hearts of selfish youth;
And so my faults fall impatiently
From an arrested decorum.

Every soul in the room
Peering unconsciously
Through a pair of static eyes,
Holds neither envy nor desire
For a body of seconds in a timeless night,
But my words just seem to spin silk
Around the heads of numbed reality.

Only when the sugar begins to seep from my veins
Will I learn to drink my own remedies.

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