>What Makes, Works

>What makes

Me cry, I never saw
Numb against the invisible pillowed hair
Then matting it down
One pill at a time
It could be, it could be
What it is
Love sick marriage
Splitting us, the cleaving what remains
Not between us, for us, because us,
Beneath us. making love but
Warring ideals = if i win
Doesn’t mean loss for you
Any certain being will tell you
Love/happiness/logic — they
Are wrong, putty philosophy
In children’s hands
Split from children
Hoisting blinders’
Victims of gravity
And I see your hefting shoulder
Yr hungry eye carving into the pillow
Milk roses
Up, Up, Down
And I am saved
In your breath at rest
Saved as in born
Again — willing to accept
Any tragedy, any lie to protect you
Love kills slowly
Seeps into the ground water
What makes us strong will, is now,
Will makes us strong
Damn this muscle for purchase and
Damn our net
We are falling We
Are hand-in-hand We
Strong for love We conquer
What stops our hefting We
Hurl paper spears We shy
As they calcify We
Feel the pierce, they are now our bones
Now we have earth’s comfort, by which
We both say different things/mean to say: we cherish our will
Will be done, spread across the dinner table, the air among, from
Hand-to-hand: INFINITE WE
Have faith
Hold god somewhere dark
Caged and screaming-mercy,
No room for hallelujah
We invent the means of escape
We invert our very suffering.
I’ve seen stronger men struck down by weaker will
Seen 150 years of natural strength heel-over-head
by a single gray afternoon; dead souls revived
propped upon the leaf-and-stick trap floor, spears
below not of bone or paper allure are thieves–
gusts of candied pleas, purple promises– devil-fisted
arrears and impossibly childish horror.
My fingers
Do not broadcast news
Of medical advances, swat
At the passing collection plate
Scale what your mind cannot
Steps ahead
Your mind (now mine study for technique)
My fingers watch
Your lips
Geysering gentle breath
Keep my eyes dry
Whisper what’s worth crying.

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