and so. . .

this evening I will blanket
you with my flesh;
take off each breast
tuck one under your head,
stuff another under your feet,

for you to be comfortable
when absorbing the full effect
of the moon’s push and pull.

then I will crack open my rib cage
and remove the heart
place it on the nightstand
where you can watch its walls


pulsate and thump,
morph to a predominant blue;

(not pretty periwinkle
or poetic indigo,
or some such drivel)

insidious blue,
the color that slovenly
hovers over ash’s hue.

and so,
I will wait--

to see if you approve
of this matte that
has overtaken my
existence;
night within night,
night within day,

--for this perversion
to permeate and assimilate
again and again. . .