There is a carnivore alive inside of you
when you stare at me without blinking,

I can hear what you are trying not to think, like
an abundance of greed caving in all around you,
it echoes in your eyes     …..     there is no free will /
the indents in our skin tell you that my moments
are your moments, the planes disappear and drop
postulates at our feet that tunnel at these impatient
bones the same way plants take root              as if
you could become a palm tree made of simpler sentiment
or one single granule of salt settled into Pacific sediment
eventually leaking from the cracks in your crooked teeth,

and they become mine when you spit kisses through the divide
of our space and lick me up in drunk and seasick swimming pools
observed by chlorine and the black hairs you make stand up on my arm
whenever we are alone; and you romanticize the trickery of rushing mouths,

you romanticize the pain of knowing there will never be another love
                                                                                                                 like this.


from my upcoming new chapbook Midlife Crisis California

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