3/10/08

oh,
i know all about structure;
i know, too, about collapse-
i know that what we build
isn’t meant to last-
bridges creak under our weight
and fall away, doors rust shut
on their hinges, skin stretches
and colors fade-
vivid burning red into
dirty grey, the eventuality
of all things.

lying in my bare-sheet bed
most nights with the lights on,
judging contradictions-
tremor and stillness,
wanting and plenty,
flesh and concrete,
(vis-a-vis)

no matter how i turn them
over and over again,
you and i just don’t
fit the definitions.