Hands Clasped like Bracelets of Misfortune

Split nails and ponytail eyes,
a disastrous beast are you.
Flow from my tongue-stained lips,
o treasure of adolescent praise.

Let neither colour nor contact dim your darkness,
that bright, meaningless condolence
that subdued nod of straightened head
that wet-cardboard-carrying, shoulder-bent groan.

Split nails and ponytail eyes,
wag your serpent tongue at me,
slick flesh meeting air in sensuous dance
fingertips touching teasing keys, like lovers.

Split nails and ponytail eyes,
your words are soft and tremulous,
they blossom as a flower in the rain
and die as petals of ice.

Split nails and ponytail eyes,
you aren't what you mean.
You spoke of things like beauty and love,
to hear your words echo.

Split nails and ponytail eyes,
you are many, many people.
I call you by your names
yet know you all the same.

Split nails and ponytail eyes,
you are the man on the corner,
the girl in school,
the woman waiting for a miracle.

You are.
That's enough.