deepundergroundpoetry.com

Birthday Suit

I�tried�to�iron�it
with�my�eyes,�that�morning
before�I�picked�you�up�at�the�airport.
I�stood�in�front�of�the�mirror
and�judged�what�you�would�see.

That�is,�perhaps,�if�our�subconscious�selves
and�our�secretly�screaming,�run�away�selves
could�agree�that�the�scrutiny
that�we�can't�ever�wash�off,
would�be�worth�the�risk�or�not
of�should've�stayed�clothed.

All�of�my�scars�are�guarded�now
by�dragon�tattoos.
They've�almost�always�slept�through�pain
because�they�were�born�in�it.
And�sometimes�that�fire
under�ink�or�scar,�still�burns.
But�it�keeps�me�warm
when�the�world�is�cold.

Yet�the�mirror�tells�me
that�my�dragons�are�getting�old.
Wrinkled,�cracking�at�their�mouths
in�some�sort�of�grimace.
Their�eyes�squint�high
but�droop�low.
Tired,�mythical�guardians
unable�to�uphold�the�vestiges
of�my�worn�down�birthday�suit.

At�my�basic,�this�is�all�I�have.
My�long�body�is�a�scroll
of�a�thousand�stories.
No�longer�good�or�bad�ones.
I�forget�because�I�stopped�recalling
and�weighing�the�occurrences.
They�all�have�the�same�weight
on�the�scales�of�the�past.
And�no�one�has�judged�me�as�harshly
as�I�have.

~

Upon�landing,�I�realized
that�your�pictures�were�not�accurate.
Like�comparing�a�globe�with�a�map.
Your�eyes�were�butterflies,
wide-winged�eyelashes
nervous�but�curious,
as�I�worried�how�nothing�about�me
was�floral�or�honey.
I'm�just�a�stapled�together�man.

But�your�lips�were�a�rose
that�softened�my�bristled�thorns
-I�gave�in.�It�had�been�so�long.
I�didn't�realize,�until�we�kissed
how�much�I�was�famished.

Suppressed�hunger�doesn't�mean�it�dies.
It�locks�itself�away�in�a�room
that's�no�longer�dared�to�enter.
And�somehow�I�knew,�as�we�walked
hand�already�in�hand,
that�all�of�my�doors�would�open�for�you.

When�I�finally�unwrapped�you
to�just�your�birthday�suit,
your�modesty�on�the�floor
with�my�own;
We�were�Luna�moths,�succumbing
to�the�allure�of�one�another's�moon.

I�am�a�Taurus,�and�you�were�here
to�be�my�earth.�I�wished�for�more�hands
to�roam�them�over�you.
My�feet�rubbed�along�your�legs,�though,
just�to�increase�as�much�contact
that�I�could�have�with�you.
My�mouth,�my�tongue,�ebbing
and�curling,�as�they�rolled
over�every�one�of�your�curves.

Our�uniting...
Our�unison
Our�universe.

And�when,�your�soft�bite
carnivoring�my�tongue;
I�felt�it�was�something�sharp�enough
that�I�could�finally�die�upon
without�regrets.
So�I�laid�down
and�gave�you�my�life.

Resurrection�started�early
as�you�ironed�me�emphatically.
As�we�celebrated�the�birth�of�us,
undressed�in�the�best�we�had.

~~~