I don’t want to kiss you, or fuck you,
or love you, either.
Only one of those things I never had choice of,
until I asked about choice.
I only want to undo the loop
that drew us to this, so that I could know earlier
that we were always divided.
Sink your thumb out of the gouge of my eye,
I put it there, I put it there.
Go back in time, find a child,
get down, sit on your haunches
and tell me, tell me
it isn’t my fault for trying -
some sorts of apathy, crystallized between kin,
are just insurmountable.
“We were too different - “
Don’t, no more lies -
say truths, final truths - insoluble truths,
Truths that do not win wars,
but break them.
Go back, find me, clip my heart.
Sink your thumb into the gouge of my eye five,
ten, fifteen years earlier.
Break my heart sooner, so I do not have to
reforge myself everyday in the hunkering down
of the sun when it slashes the day from the night.
The wax cooling between ribs, the molten vertebrae,
wick waning, stuttering like the sound of your name.
Say before now what you have in selfishness
brutal mercy, “I wanted to be loved,
just not by you.”
In the textbooks the heart is muscle and organ both,
all children deserve to know sooner
when they are making music for the deaf.