Lips

her hair is the lips of the moon
      (i feel it soft,
      dining on the outer reaches
      sailing into the sun)
have it grateful now, this summer’s day
feel it rend the cancer growth
           we can grab it – and by a thread, it jerks
                        threads
                              statue  mask
                              hot breath pets my neck
and with fantastic reach, we can grab hold; we can ache
      (wrench ourselves closer, the anger of the stars)
           these muscles scream
           the bullets slice the night as knives on your tongue
      (give me the sword
           bloodritual
           dripping garments
      give me the novice men and crying women
      hands and voices join the skyward shriek)
the threads of her palms wrap around my wrist
      cobwebbed and labyrinthine
i see black adders in the trees
their secret limbs twist my neck break my fingers

           let’s swim, naked, alone
      (twisted)
her feet are silken her mouth is golden her eyes are bestial      her face is raw
      (i need hanged men)
      (mystery of her mitochondria:
                           glinting tubes are shattered nightwards
          the air which she             breathes is poison
                  and smolders in my throat
                        venomous and sin)uous

when she smiles, die
      soft teeth, melted cement
                      “taste’s good”
what language is she speaking? is it the ghost? the method of hatred? the numbers?
i want consummation
      devour
            (i want