i was
a ship crashing
upon jagged rocks
mere miles
from safe harbor

a ricochet
bouncing off of
a steel girder
striking an
innocentbystander

a deep shadow on a sunny day in a
cemetery for incontinent dreamers, the gap
between wheezing breaths where the world
pulsates in time to the warbling spots
gathering in the periphery.

i am the cold, gold cross between her sinful, supple breasts. the hitch in her
lovely throat as she hovers at the edge of
either orgasm or eternity, knowing a simple
twitch of my finger or tongue will provide
the only answer she needs.

i am nothing
dreamshatter shaped
by heartbramble
into a human knot
not what she wanted
not who i wanted to be