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The Reader Of The Touch

THE READER OF THE TOUCH was fired.
Actually, he forgot his own language.

For there where a touch mattered
now a merciless squeeze coils,

python-like, crawling in the bed and stammering 
instead of talking, strangling instead of caressing.

And the speaker of the body was fired, too.
Actually, he never really had a job.

For there where the body mattered,
words were overflowing,

caressing instead of strangling,
talking instead of touching.

Nail-Like Notes

NAIL-LIKE NOTES of pain all over the body
carefully hidden from desire.

A story about decomposition - so sad.
There isn't any refuge in time, only bitter banishment.

And it could have been green,
it could have been orange,

blue too. And it would have been good
for you, for me, 

and all those whose bodies
have been aired out by indifference.

The one so sad.
Decomposed.

Love Offers Itself

LOVE OFFERS ITSELF to an utterance: I know (I've heard the news), it went rowing, painstakingly, across scars, unsewing them, 

falling over the sighs of fish, 
flowing along slashes, hardly flowing into the mouth,

it dissipated there, it was in you and me,
walked motionlessly, made holes in our bodies,

tore us apart and 
kneaded again,

being hungry, we 
ate to be eaten

at the very end, by her, 
who abounded in body 

that we were afraid to attribute
sex to; it missed a name

and we missed
a mouth to utter it.

Some Glittering In

SOME GLITTERING IN the darkness of the room
coming from the depth of spoons no one has been using

two people are sitting
facing each other

we can always give ourselves
an illness and bring things to an end

they say from the depth of
already deserted chairs

A Fear That

A FEAR THAT I will be
abandoned by touches

an indication that you're planning
to tell me the truth

a wish to have sight
taken from the eyes

hearing from the ears
does blindness help

as the last refuge against
the overflow of your self

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