[with my glasses off…]

with my glasses off, you looked so beautiful, blobs of glorious
contrasting colors against the bulk of my purple wall. i cut
you out of newsprint and shadow-boxed with you before fucking,
and the rot of the unspoken left trails down my thighs. there
are things to be answered, but let’s leave that for later when
the temperature drops and i can push you through my screen
door to land bare-assed in the dirty snow. wave your arms
to leave me an angel. once while driving i removed my glasses
and i was astounded by the fuzzy blur of it all, amazed at
the oncoming lump of red bearing down on me, which turned
out to be a truck. heaven must be like this, i thought, bobbing
blues and greens, fractaled light, something that is supposed
to be a face in my bed that i can only tell when i reach out
and touch two days’ worth of beard. i poke you in the eye
by accident while reading your face like braille, close my eyes
against the beating colors and lapse into a white coma, dead
weight against your side.