We bathe together in faded glitter,
birthed naked, luminous,
dress head to toe in the morose noir,
amongst the dead
Rest inside each other’s silence, the world’s silence,
inside death itself,
time passes infinite and fleeting,
slippery as silver satin between our fingertips.
He calls me darling
and the rest of his words turn liquid honey.
His lips move in honeyclogged hush,
but I know enough to laugh when he laughs,
now anything’s possible.
Our imaginations run riot,
piano notes sparkle
iridescent from his throat,
his words come out teal and gold.
I open my mouth wide
to taste them,
my jaw feels out of place,
realign and adjust
teeth behind teeth.
Unsettled things suspended in my mouth,
I slice my lips to bleed words,
I want this poem to ache as I ache,
to argue his own poetry, forgive him
his thoughts on books,
he forgives me my views
All these thoughts,
drenched by thoughts like tears like ink like lyrics.
We fill teacups with champagne and regret,
throw our heads back,
slam them down, and signal for more.
A high decibel jolt of electricity,
his voice, the current that keeps me alive,
and he knows a heartbeat when he hears one.
I am still in mourning
brokenhearted he understands.
I invite him to visit my dreams again,
but he makes no promises.
Please don’t go don’t leave me here all by myself I get ever so lonely from time to time
MD Marcus is a freelance writer and poet who loves keys, the color blue, and a good nude illusion. Her work has appeared on Salon as well as in Rat’s Ass Review, Communicators League, Ariel Chart, The Literary Nest, among others. Co-author of the poetry collection, forgavein, her forthcoming memoir, The Superior Act of Presenting Your Teeth to Strangers, will be published 2021.