Benicio

Benicio, I keep seeing you through a dirty lens.
Come to San Diego. I'll dress you in Chinese chashmere.
The numbered streets run north and south here too.
There is work for a shaman. We'll set up
A post in Balboa Park. You can sell your meteorite
Necklaces, and tell everyone's fortune, focusing
On the good things the way you do. Don't worry
That it rains a lot in spring. You can use my laminated
Tarot deck so you won't ruin your old cards. Benicio!
Take your time but hurry! I just can't think;
Doors are opening and closing in the wind.
I've nursed my sick lovers; they are well enough to leave.
They all resemble you in some way, but their faces
Can only console. They don't have those shadows
Under their eyes, those of a man who foresees an asteroid,
But has the mercy to keep quiet. Benicio, the tears
When we make love, could flood hills. I feel
Invincible upon surrendering to you, as if I could
Look death in the eye and invite it to settle in
Like a familiar houseguest. Benicio, we'll drink
The moments that are left, slowly, like old wine.


Haunt My Ghosts

Haunt my ghosts. Subdue my rage. Rebuke your perfect
Marriage, made in Purgatory. I'll choose the plan that ignites
Over the plan that cools your paradoxes. I'll incite the sea
Until the swells reject all but suicides and weathered demons.
Worthy is the well that delights you, Though you curse
The foreign force of my touch. We have failed because
You do not believe our love existed before we did, before
The leaves of New England swept you away, before Beowulf
Put on his chain mail, before God nailed himself to the truth.
I'll take the leeway that a perfect lie affords. The night
Is tedious without you, and my dreams, defeated,
Sulk in padded rooms, Can you allow these eyes their youth?
Will you praise my anachronous skin? Suspend your sword
Above my head, by a single, long, black hair, that I may never
Take your lips for granted.