K

There is comfort here. You and I
lazy in bed, stretching and preening like evil-eyed cats.
Not quite human, but baser and more graceful
like the cynics and the disillusioned who don’t
confuse the other with what it is they’re after.
We are a selfish union, each demanding caresses
and sweetly smiling at ourselves in
the neat iris of the other.
Still, I forget how it was we met
and where I’ve heard your name before.



So flick all your ashes on me, darling,
and I’ll spit in your face and claw through your canvases
as we’ll clamor for the right to be the one
turning their back upon the other in
our tenuous love affair.
Two solitary creatures refusing
to be anyone’s pet.