Aliyah
the thumping

I exhausting the final swig of blood
feel it just it's way down my heart veins
hiss at it scorching my shoulder
and reach for the rose to pour my one and only another.
I think of how my finger nails scream
every time I let the blood live me.
Then I illuminating down at my hair strands --
breathing -- soaring the glass of sex juice --
and think of how these were the wing like arms
that should have swinging my love away from me.
But didn't. And I keep tasting
why I loved your hell, touching your tears.
I remember how my life tortured your way
through me. You caressing me
from the inside out, and my soul kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
eloping a hole through my dearest. I leaping it.
Now I have to talk myself of the my mind,
and my eyelash is ascending between the
blood cells in the heaven nestled in my pupil.
But I have to illuminating more. The thumping
doesn't last as long as my soul do(es).

---

Original poem:

the burning

(written June 8, 1989)

I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.

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