Only my books anoint me, and a few friends, those who reach into my veins.
The body is a damn hard thing to kill.
The boys and girls are one tonight. They unbutton blouses. They unzip flies. They take off shoes. They turn off the light. The glimmering creatures are full of lies. They are eating each other. They are overfed. At night, alone, I marry the bed.
I am not at home in myself. I am my own stranger.
I rot on the wall, my own Dorian Gray.
The man inside of woman ties a knot so that they will never again be separate.