RETURN TO SENDER
Hello, darling. I got your message.
You know I can’t pick up.
Now, now. You’ll only make me cry.
Taking your love has always cost me too much.
I just want to hold you, and not have it hurt.
It’s such a charming agony, don’t you find?
We all suffer for our art, baby.
You’re my little masterpiece.
So now you want this butter blonde?
Honey, I don’t live here anymore.
Come and find me at love’s end,
break my lonely peace one more time.
I wish I’d met you before I was ruined.
You’re my cause and my cure, darling.
Now there’s only one thing for it:
Shall we begin again?
Who are these men we love?
The ones we let into our beds,
and our bodies.
For once I’d like to taste your blood.
Darling, let me in.
Is that glitter in your eyes?
I heard someone shot your
Now your brain doesn’t rule your body,
I can take what I need.
BREAK IN CASE OF EMERGENCY
we used to lie palm to palm
now its palm to window
window to palm
hot breath on glass
we used to sleep face to face
now its face to screen
screen to face
cold feet in bed
Take a sip of my champagne, darling,
tell me how it tastes.
I’ve been telling everyone about you.
No, don’t leave me now,
I was just getting used to this.
The Bollinger’s a vintage,
and I let you sip from the bottle.
It took some time, darling,
and I never found another
that drank so quickly.
I kept the bottle, you know,
the one we drained in bed.
I wanted you so badly,
my Bollinger baby.
I’ve been busy, darling,
pouring flutes for others,
curing myself of you.
WATCH MY HEART
Champagne dripping and sugar spilling,
tulle skirts and sweet whispers,
dizzy and delirious,
soft sounds of falling in love.
I want one that looks pretty,
devastatingly so, you know the type.
I know they’re the wrong ones,
but I always get lost in the kisses.
What’s a girl to do?
I love the way the handsome ones wander,
dropping glitter all over the floor.
Little footprints all the way to me.
Put your finger to your pulse,
watch my heart thump, thump, thump,
I’m on borrowed time, baby.
Come and steal your minutes.
THIS SMALL VIOLENCE
Now sit for this ritual,
and the boar bristles that like to
rip hair from the root.
After, watch the strands of silk
stand still in the soft light
and the silence.
Dig out the brush’s bones,
unearth the filth,
another bodily parting.
This came from you,
this coarse gold deadness and
the hot sting in the scalp.
Witness this small violence
brutal, bruising and beautiful.