Geisha Gestapo

with ease in soft duplicity,

she caresses my tears

and peels a vein from my flesh,

her kiss is as soft and inviting

as my burn is harsh and ripe

she stops and looks at me in wait,

fervently hoping for an artery,

carries my pulse to a prenatal anticipation,

and in a look away my will bursts in a

masochistic contraction...

i jettison my hopes for constancy,

and capitulate with ardency,

bare my wrists and neck and

count the seconds as I give in to

the ethereal descent of a man’s will.

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