NUCLEAR THREAT
This solitary passion cuts the core
Out of my apple.
Bloodless lasar surgery burns
A frozen section
Out of my heart. I stare at the eclipse
Of the sun and go blind.
My tongue is welded to the icy iron
Knocker on your door.
A falling meteor consumes itself
Inside my womb.
My radiation count is high.
Beware of me.
I could be tranquil as the summer seas
If you were here.
Your kiss would turn the strychnine I have drunk
To sparkling burgundy.
Leave a Reply