Heroin (for Laurie)

With these words
with these thoughts
with these actions
we enter the other,
unholy lost desperate alone
to squander stolen luxuries
into the fire
the burning future
of our failing.

I mix my blood with yours.
I twine our bodies
and complicate our souls
squeeze your arm purples, blues
eyes close
cotton.

Pain is diminished
belonging to each other
even like this
just in this moment
of love desperation.
We both love abandon.
My lust for you is just for her
and yours for me is all for her…
we share her separately
but lie together
un-belonging without lies.

In my hands in my fingers
in the slow ache my bones
start slipping free from their flesh
to find a rest of their own.
Unwilling
to be this alone
I pull the last drink, draw
the last from your arm…
infected.

Now the moon moves too fast,
so much more mortal.
I am yours and not hers
not in love
but something simpler
our union mocking death
given and willing.

Watery pink streams wandering
dispatched to private destinations
to my hands and fingers cracking
open in blisters and cuts
and my mouth
begging for you
begging for more
the tongue travels secretly
and begs your body's blessing
chooses a way
above the flows of passion
subcutaneous rivers of a conscious body
that you have know explored forgotten
abandoned belittled.
Still I hover near in your darkness
your bare hold on awareness
worship over the slow, mildly passionate thighs
opening deeper
more darkness
covers pulled over our lazily swaying heads
tangled sweaty hair.

The desire of this flesh
from the dead ache of a desperation
is not to be alone in this dark day of birth.
We tighten beneath the sheets
a hard bump, a seed or chestnut.

Scratch rub but you can't reach
close just under the skin
can't take back the black clot
of our communal blood
of the lost dead souls who shared.
Sickly oblivion, we are ready, supine
All she asks or might ask is
given or promised already, surrendered
without speaking any pact aloud.

With distance
with enough time
the need in the blood runs cold
for that excitement that drove our fury
fading off to the distance
as if the memories never belonged…
half-taken from stories overheard
in cheap diners and payphones.

Death is no longer pink in the mind
but a lifeless gray
no longer running course
to the open hand which heals.
Death now is everywhere.
In me death is alive
now longing is our last threat.

Almost beloved
that I might touch you again…
most banished, rejected, poison, lovely
girl I dream to have…
dream to have rescued you
to stop this.
I cannot heal you
cannot heal even me.
Almost beloved
not even close to a perfect love
your need and dreams
cannot heal us.
I've lost the will to rise above
this makeshift scarecrow
of dying meat,
I cannot mend
but promise to stay
here with you
beyond the distractions of desire
misfortune and wandering…

I mix your blood with mine.