Yesterday, I was
At myself, telling dreadfully
Treacherous thoughts,
Dearly as evenings and darkness
Onward like tomorrow—death and
Time, being treachery, and a separation.
Sister cried and wailed, bitten and scratched
Everywhere, her body accused and beaten, flogged
In formation, in seduction, she fell for whims,
Dashing death’s blows, plows, and whims.
Would you never dine with me?
Overmorrow, but dance tomorrow
Round over the beach where the sun rises, naked
On beds beside windows, behind curtains,
Meeting on moon days where it shines brightest
On the shadows where you raped me on
The sheet of marital lust.
