Love and Wannabes

Love

EVOLved lust;
overload of
flame pumping
through each atrium,
each ventricle
of your mind.
the fire brands
unhealing wounds
that never keloid
never disappear;
third-degree burning
impressions on
your soul
with their image
and you revel in that
feeling. For the moment
you feel no pain,
nerves dumbed--
excuse me, numbed
to express internal
ownership of an external
being. ___ IS here.



Ode to Wannabes

a breath
from another
says
"I'll try to understand
when you're down on your knees
in front of [THAT] man".
I will try to understand
that my brain-
programmed;
nerves dumbed down
to receive
the proverbial brand-
chased after you
and away from me.
But I have no concept
no imagination
no cognition anymore.
Only a body lacking
control of its
feelings,
emotions,
heart.
But only if
you knew
how difficult it was to
compact and part
this red sea
running through
me to make way
for you.
You never will know, for
my head rests
in your backpack.
Always behind you,
never a forethought,
only a trailing consideration
that is at the mercy of your
spine.
When you collapse
to your knees,
to service THAT man,
so will my memory.
Remember that.