Shallow

we only see dying black holes;
staring out from the hill, our bodies as small as the
far-away stars, hands clutching dirt and grime.

insects skittering on long legs,
running from our ignorant fingers.

you were angry and i was sorry.

the insects crawled between the pillars of the stadium,
the bright lights glittering on aluminum and glass,
and you apologized, quietly.

the crickets chirped like an orchestra, and the captured
fireflies buzzed helplessly in their plastic cages,
banging into walls they couldn’t even see.

you were angry. and i was sorry.

lazy susans; rotating around each other:
spinning the midday dust, your fingers tracing your name,
bored and somewhat lonely, waiting.

your mother was away on work and you were staring
at the dahlias; out of season, away from death:
plastic is always better.

your father was in hawaii, with some blonde model draped
haphazardly over his arm and his harried assistant
dropping acid on the bathroom floor.

you were standing silently in your bedroom, watching
the fan as it rotated, the air blowing around the room
and ruffling the edges of your black skirt.

your fingers buried themselves inside my hair
and then fell to the sheets and they tangled like spiders
crawling through a neverending forest of cotton.

you turned your head when i kissed your jaw,
but your hips were bucking against mine,
and you were watching as fingers traversed your stomach.

you were standing in the doorway when i left,
eyes lazy and lonely and just a little bit scared,
and the ceiling fan was still turning languidly.

the porch deck, with its rough, dead bark,
rubbing against her fingers,
digging into her flesh.

blood and wood inching through her system
and she’s staring up at the skies, blue and white and
empty as the sea at midnight.

a sweater, hung loose on limp arms,
falling off and fluttered in the wind, but,
so heavy, lying collapsed in a heap
on the ground where she has planned
on falling, someday.

her teeth, biting her skin
(if i peel hard enough, if i were strong enough,
i imagine it would come off in strips and laid out
you could even eat me,
while i watch the flies lay eggs
and hatch.)

but never hard enough: she cannot even bleed
with these white dull teeth.

the wood digging into the whorls of her thumbpad:
she brings her fingers up to her mouth:
she bites hard:
the splinters leak into her mouth,

and she swallows.

the air sirens sound thick and hungry in the air,
obscene misery loud and wailing,
wincing people clasping hands over
breaking ears.

and bombs, and bombs, and more bombs.

standing in the middle of the street
with smoke curling into the rain and the
lightning flashing miles away,
watching the thunder clouds part.

standing and watching the rain pound the asphalt,
screams and cries and terrified yelps:
help me help me help me help me help me.

the wind was howling in the valley,
curling through the trees like it was trying to find
somewhere to settle forever, the wind, whipping
with the noise of falling lunacy.

and standing in the street, you turned, smiled,
and winked and said, none of this is real,
so, baby,
you better start waking up.

the reel slips, clatters, falls onto the floor:
fuzzy silence.

and bombs, and bombs, and more bombs.