a fool's wisps on these human cheeks
i've been impeached, implored to give it up
i stare behind a mesh of hair
i stare too much.

love's not knowing, love's not knowing
so we string along:
i don't know you, i don't want to
i hope i don't know you for long.

sorry for hiatus. i've been afraid that if i write on here, my ear's will get worse, some sort of jinx.

Kick me, in the silent sleet
In all your perfect cruelty.
I’m far too good for this, but never mind,
Kick me, kick me coldly.
I’m well read, and incisive,
But somehow I’ve missed a beat
So kick, kick my sharp intelligent face
With your brutal filthy feet.

Ballad of the Self-Destructive Westie

Would you close your hands round mine sir?
Kiss me in the cool stale light of the failing day?
It’s been a year since I last watched the sun
Fall, small and tired, in this chilly winter way.

I lean against you, lean on you and smile
Your palm is warm, I kiss it, start to ache.
If you forget you love me, leave
I promise you my heart will break.

Well, there’s the last car
Pulling into the end drive. Is it my turn to cook?
Your eyes topple down into mine, we sigh,
You bend to kiss me with that tired look.

Sun’s set. You’re far too good for me
Look at you, you in your rolled-up sleeves
Your cheeks, your silent eyes, your smile
Your heart in your warm chest that beats and breathes.

And I know how you’ve been cruel, I know,
I know that you’ll ruin my life
And in this I’m pathetic, in this above all:
That I’d give all I have to be your miserable wife.