Atlas

after Sylvia Plath

at the end of dusk the one I love sleeps next to me she has promised to lay the Atlas of the world at my feet and I know that at the break of dawn everything is possible even becoming a god, even if it's the small things she can hand me down ,feed me with love from the head of a unicorn and I know all this is out of grasp but who am I not to believe but it is autumn and the trees are drying, withering away and I am the only thing still standing on her promises,

I want to believe,

                         I believe,

but in my sleep there is a Pegasus,  a bear,  a werewolf waiting for us, each morning is a puddle of myself searing through the mattress and I tell my lover this,  I tell her and she armours herself each day and she says it is just a dream but I say a little prayer, I know I can't have it all,  to have the sun breaking through my curtains and watch my lover in her beauty , to call the stars down from the skies but o beautiful damned creature all the impossible I want it for you.

Cystic acne

and when you leave avoid looking back to avoid turning into things like pillar of salt — Genesis 19:2

Two days into a new decade I pack up my load and leave// this is the kind of lover I have become// I would blame the loss on the war// 12 years from now my child would ask why I did not marry for love// I would omit to tell her I was a coward// that I couldn't fix my lover from the war// that I couldn't stay and watch her crumble or fix our love// humpty dumpty when did love become so hefty// the silence between us was threatening to break us into outlaws// I arched to unburden my sorrow at the border// Australia is burning and what better metaphor to describe the rift between us// I hold your hands run a trail through your body// the acne has increased on your upper torso and I love you twice as much// thoroughly// I form the distance that will occur when I take a train to leave for a place that i do not know// when I leave I try not to look back in order not to turn into things// like pillar of salt// when did our silence become a plummeting bomb?// I have been reading War and Peace and all I learn is to run// run!// leave all your love and loving behind// you don't carry that much load around if you want to survive// you need to be light// swift as hare// 5 years from me trailing the dots on your body// I would walk down the aisle to marry Mr. Wrong// I'd write the sweetest vow to stay with him while I left my heart at your door post// I'd swear I'd blame it on the war.