her misery

with my pen,
i rape her full f my words
finally able to break the dried scum
of secretions,
that had glued hr lips together
darkness!
then the pain and the haze
buried by an uneasy compromise
she supposed it to be a relief
and the pain itself begins not to recede,
but to erode

as i push more and more
that dark-gray cloud in her eyes,
begin to dissipate faster and faster
she sees my grinning gaped mouth,
and my from death to life eagerness
and she understand...
she is in a hell of a jam

that prescient part of her mind sees me
long before i knew i was seeing her
while im on top of her,
she sees me like im a graven image
worshiped by the superstitious African tribes..
..stones
..and doom!

her body is big but generous
no welcoming orifices or even open spaces,
areas of hiatus
most of all,
she gives me a disturbing sense of solidity
as if she has no blood vessels
or internal organs
she looks both ludicrous and queerly apt


and i wake up...a dream,
a nightmare?? and then it dawns to me..
...''that what happens when you try to write
a poem and your heart is not yet ready!''
...HER MISERY!!!!!