You Are My Destiny

Feeding you jelly from my lacerated tongue.
Ripping my arm off so I can grow a new one.

Evil streams down my legs in the shower.
50 years spent in a juvenile story.

I give up the 8000 mysteries of night,
a blood sacrifice filling up this spongy world,

sank until decagrams turned into circles,
starfish to slugs, mammals to mollusks.

Looking for precedents for our destruction,
I find in the bestiary similar pains:

ground sloths burrowing for life under dirt,
she-wolves smashing their skulls into rocks,

fathers and sons in the same mascara,
boys whisked away into central air conditioning.

I walked through loops of sickness with you,
stuffed things in trash cans, floated over sewage,

an upside-down icy heaven ingrowing,
fissioning under our solitary ruins: cilia

burnt by the setting summer sun, dahlia blooms
in an oxidized desert. Banshees enter

and exit our bodies. God lurches slumped
in your mouth, in his glory.