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by Invisible Man

fast you are, my love;
you think you have passed me
but I sit inside you,
saving the drips from your veins,
watching you move--
like a machine,
you groan, you moan,
you creak, you leak,
you break.
you are broken.
your insides are beautiful, my love.

fast you are, my love,
but I catch you and stretch your arms to the horizon:
touch the sun before it's gone.

fast you are, my love.
you stuff you shoes with math
or knickknacks named in haste, for free;
take your faith and grind it to a paste.
take it with your tongue.  it is sweet.

fast you are, my love,
like a rabbit through a trap,
or a pain loved and lost, too fast--
you fly through my mind and trip.
I use your eyes as spoons.
your mouth, a button-hole.
your breasts, a plot
for a movie with fire and death
and glasses filled with juice.

fast you are, my love;
faster than the last trap
before victory;
past the pit and the pendulum,
past the dogs, the spikes,
the heights, the birdshit spread
on logs, I find you
with your wicked, wicked words,
quietly waiting.

fast you are, my love,
like dogs on a track
like words on the back
of a paperback book.
you crumble into letters.
I could sum you in a glance.
sweep your words into a pile.
defile your name.
dance on your grave.
face you with nothing safe to say.
I do.
I do.

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