I saw you first in your underwear
it was Ash Wednesday and in your hand
you held a razor blade.
I watched as blood flowed dark
from your leg t'ward the bed
on which you perched. You stopped its flow,
to prevent it soaking the bedclothes,
with a piece of kitchen paper.

I was ashamed the first time
that I said I loved you. I held
your hand and rested my head
on your stomach; we were naked
on the carpet and my heart
beat red in my head. Your blood
thumped clean in my palm
We stayed forever, and you loved me too

and later when everything I was was hate
and my hand was on the white of your leg
we were rabid, vital, crushed
together, pressed, we tore
life, sucked bone, leached
into each other. I pressed your heart
to my head, let drift, was left.

I watch you simply
now you've grasped control
of the tunes that once we fucked to
and you seem, though a little troubled, radiant.
the rest of the world laughs out loud
and you initiate me still.

I'd love to meet you first
down by the water,
take your warmth inside, sleep
deep down - pale, entwined, washed white
and bright - rippled out and faceted
among current-tugged fronds
dark and green we would be
submerged, surrendered, weightless