The Beggar

i visit you in different faces
the same soul, in variations, garden eyes,
you say the feeling is a sap, a rumination on a mask, 
we are only 
the most complex reflection, at best,
the body
a thick robe 
of peculiar gum, teeth,
for the girl, a gash, 
and on him, the ironic wilt,
which bids on others knowing,
that by fire, by doubt, by a shroud which wears the math, 
of living, you mime a breath and find,
lover after lover,
their cut skin draped over
the fat of a hot planet.

his mouth says
there are only clever creatures,
the light inside hides
in a dumb cram of fossil
on and on, we shudder together, 
in a dark corral of guests, waiting,
like guilt is gray, you understand it hanging,
fog on grass, softly saying, 
i know you like a headache.

riding down together, 
we kiss, smile, calling all
little islands,
of a glitter planet, brimming high with souls,
drowning down in a shallow bath.


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