We've Got TV

subtly stoic
your sad eyes
see through me
to my helpless heart,
hopelessly yours,
beaten by
black waves of
anxiety and regret,
shredded with
tasteless desire
and dictated by
emotional half truths,
bitter propaganda,
but kept beating
by god through
the beating
of your own.

i see yours too-
heavy with
unfelt feeling
and laced with
longing for
something more,
something untamed,
something dangerous.
insatiable lust
for escapades
to be determined.
but for now,
here’s me.
and we’ve got
tv.

black sheets

this bed echoes silence,
emptied of you tonight
(how relieved
must the neighbors be?)
freed from the sticky
heat of your skin,
i lie newly oppressed
by the cool comfort
of a sultry
summer storm
without you.