were i some 

tumultuous bundle of ribbons

nodes of ganglia

dry mouthed, room temperature body 

raspy windchimes, hard-fleshed 

ragged 

reaching 

sparklessly clung 

to the ropes of eden

 

were i some clambering biped

gracefully cruel

a dynastic chandelier of chanfered speech

not something soft knuckled, 

some treading ape 

the dog you talk down toward

or upon, from above

words spit like china bone 

 

were i instead some precious leaflet

a note pressed in pages 

brined timeless and barbed for 

easy hanging;

were I some charlatan 

some elaborate trick 

I could only love you 

by the line

to the furnace 

 

instead, the garden fallows 

and the shed smells of bluing,

of sweat,

our backs turned away 

months ago,

when we agreed that you should take the bed, and I could keep the dog--

when I could hear the taste of leather

on your tongue 

and I wouldnt hear another drop

so you moved back in with your parents

and I stayed here, to watch til the end

perhaps alone . 

 

perhaps.