Umbrella Iris

J**** liked to dance
Called it the only thing that made her epidermis worthy
So she went trouble hunting under bed sheets and skin sleeves
Pirouetted her way to shatter crack heart and left Never-land too early

She wore shame colored coats still wrapped in plastic over twisted rusty wire
Looked a lot like shoulders
plastic playground sparks, exploding scars
red line ripple and fever to impress
She told me she could be a dancer once
But she didn’t know if she could love herself
So I held her rigamortis steady and played walking stick to tired woodsman
We sleep like dominos now
begging budge and soon to fall
J**** whispers lullaby lie recited bible verse
our breathing melts muffled screams under reflected light
The moon is just graveyard heaven for every fire fly Aphrodite dreamer left to rot in half an extra long jar

I barely move my radiator arms anymore
Can’t gravitate toward mirror mirror show me everything I never want to father
under jersey sheets she knows I hate
Make me think trapped
Sin sipped chapped whisky lips kiss and burn like bodies
Smell like overdose hell on a rainy sunday when I cant call my father because he doesn’t know I do drugs
Her polar ice cap smile fading
Every moonbeam off her body turns icicle and falls sunflowers surrounding our bed as if to preserve what little of our souls are left
Guilt struck tombstone stuck next to me
Smiling strangers passing by
I know you remember what it felt like to serpentine my apple core spine before you began to take bites bigger than you could stomach
You told me you were jealous of my mother when Jacob was born
Didn’t understand how new organs couldn’t play child choir tune like rusty tubes
Filled your blouse with feathers and asked me if I could save you a spot
When I connected dots
Drew freckle constellations and named them after imaginary daughters
The first time you asked me what if felt like to burn red hot and fire inside I wanted to tell you about acid
I wanted to tell you when the universe explodes into the ivory curtain surrounding the shadows of everything you’ve done I wish I did not see
my hands are never steady
I wanted to tell you that sometimes I got out of bed to take showers
You make me feel dirty
When we held waxed impressions of hands I pretended we were holding souls
Knuckles locked like we forgot the password to our combination hearts
Suit yourself stitch in unison our bodies meshed together
My grandfather told me once I could only be so lucky to find a wife like his
You didn’t live up to your potential

I wanted to tell you I wait to fall asleep
always kept my arm over your shoulders and my legs locked with yours
You called me contact addict
I didn’t want to let you go
Your pelvis is a well
A mere receptacle for the overflow from the locks and dams of ribcages and breastplates
Every second you spent perpendicular to grown up boys was a minute missed parallel with a lover
I wanted to tell you its not just your legs that are restless.
I’ve spent more time stacking fire wood from your forest of excuses
Planting seeds for every time you tripped running over your own story

When we made love I pretended we were amateur surgeons trying to find a way to put two halves together
I guess souls don’t shatter in equal parts