Elvis

elvis costello would have given you
a high five
if he would have seen
what happened later on that night.

the romanticism of suicide
has been murdered.

for its own sake

a life ruled by passion rather then reason
you hide from this, run, dive under desk in classrooms
like they taught you to do with the storms.
the fall occured, Augustine was wrong
lust still runs around the city, crosses the borders, still
smokes cigarettes.
pessimism, irony
lust does the dance of the seven veils
and tells the seven deadly sins to fuck off.

honey

I tell myself to slow down,
take it slow,
red lights usually mean stop
but the only thing I do slow
are the thrust upon your body, my fingers
tracing your sides and the kissing done
to your neck, back, and forehead.