I am giant:
strong legs, flexed tonsils,
taut back from climbing your forearms
to get to your mouth,
scratching at your chest on the way there
to let your home
know what I own.
I compromise but I am
I’m full of bargains:
one dollar books and yesterday’s makeup,
hair knotted with century old lesions and
previous engagements so I
shave it every chance I get.
Try to forgive myself for
such large displays of arrogance.
You want me to comfort you in
cadence and I obey it
deriving satisfaction with the way my voice
sounds as I practice inflection
ending my prose in pointed questions,
the pleasure of seeing my mask unfold
on screen paralyzed in heat
so she freezes
but in between,
sweet, murmured ellipses…
I’m a noose so tight you try wearing me
like a loose fitting garment,
or just one hard day’s night,
and I might hang you.
“Jupiter in Scorpio”