Staining

I’m clinging addicted

to the threads of our laughter

sinking into the woe of reality

and staining it shameless

with love.

These words are like

abandoned children crying

breaking in through the windows

and leaking oceans across the page;

I drip candle wax and scripture

into the ointment of latter days.

Wrap me awake inside this fever

and then show me

all your canonized secrets,

this is a story of wicked roses.

You are the tipping back

of soused resolve,

you’re mona lisa smile.

With your fingers

start a colloquy on my cheek

as I beg you to look past

the bandages and cigarettes.