just because your dead
doesnt mean we aren't dating anymore
like you would have dated me
dead or alive
yet i am haunted

you humming
so we must have chemistry
or am i interminably obsessed
like a ghostly house

your poems
had there way with me
like a strip tease
and soft slipping fingers squeezing
making little red veins hemorrhage
like a thick scum intravenous drip
rumbling down a phantom cock

warm breath
on the lay away plan
infernal lips
suck face
a lit match
immortal burning
holes in my stomach

bits of my heart like skin flaps
nailed to a wooden plank
by the tormented photograph of you
tender aged thirty year old
with your head in the oven
languishing gracefully

your generosity in death
a carnival ride of fascination
like a dropped bird

nerved up cat
to tormented to pet
to love
to be well
to smile
to calm
better hors d’oeuvres of rat poison

i like to think
you where inviting me
like a necrophiliac
to love your slender corpse

please baby one more verse
for the thin air road
your poem
a dark crime
behind the big white door
your so pretty in penny loafers
bare legs dangling
a gassed ass
a moveless flower
head in ovens grave
corridor of rabies
finally vacant
honking at my face for a last kiss
to brush my wet mouth
smooth against your goddess buttocks

frothy
smudge face
sunken skin
and that stupid stare
like a half filled ashtray
tongue out and cunty fingers

eyes
"dead ball gods"
your weight no longer measured in grief

you turned the gas up
deep breaths now darling
common you can do it
so steep baby
feel the caress

i was born to late
to die with you
to save you
pretty nymph in a downward spiral
ravens clutch

still crying,
horney for you
and your black light
lanterns
to busy being dead
to give a shit

i'm fixated on your suicide pose
beauty and horror tangled lovers

here and gone
embracing

here and gone
almost in the same split second
graspless

i'm obsessed, obsessively obsessive
for what could never be
and is;
am i not your fan,
your creep

if I pulled you from the oven
saving you for your rattled life
no doubt, you'd be all pissy at me
your magic rescue voodoo hero
your straight jacket of love
keeping you alive
cavalcade of dead girl faces
you would have hated me for that

your dead now
and i'm left here reading your poems
telling you softly
they are the best poems ever
and making believe
you love me