a poem

by e. rose (hint: it's a pseudonym)

i am trying to catch you,
but in catching you something else slips between my fingers like
little, slick dew drops of oil;
i bake meaning into our every conversation, you wear me and I’m
pleased, but it’s not
enough;
see, see, see, you say do you see that this is me that you can
hear and;
but i can’t touch you, so the experience drips down my legs like
saliva: it comes from my skin
like sweat, but it’s a lot thicker, it must be something else

in our minds we sweep downward into a giant’s arms - they were
yours all along! i didn’t
know,
i screamed;
they are yours, i said, and you took them all off with
buttercream fingers that
slipped down my cheeks and into my neck;

it was hard to breathe at first, but I got used to the sensation
of gloves curdling around my
body like milk too hot. i drowned
it was like a little gentleman developing a larger scheme; he
interfaced all over me
my guardians, it was way too much.

there is so much to see, there is really a whole lot, but
scribbles can also drown a grown
man, he doesn’t even need to be up to his knees in it

wait, did you hear that? a slow murmur of several thousand
silver heartbeats - silver in the
sense of mist coming in from the lake in the morning; you’ve
certainly seen it, if not with your
own eyes then with someone else’s
i think it’s your heart, and it’s buzzing like a tiny alligator
coming out of the water, but hey, at
least it’s still beating

say, could you do me a favor? it’s not my concern, per say, it’s
about a mutual friend. she’s
lost... i guess i’ll find her eventually, but she got lost some
time ago, and there has been no
turning back
she was a god and i lost her