A “home game” helps to lose you – some of

my emotions all lopsided

in your room like Brecht, turning

upward,

To grow a hill

in your apocryphal

scene – only make tones

around me
Let loose

an ex boyfriend,

a homebrand sweetener,

not unlike

a quarterback,

domesticity ~ fantasy,
A fragment of

us is movement
/


Do you always hold a gaze this

fretfully? Are you not an alien thing?

A reconnaissance – or rather

all matted in person? 
/


You’re never far


away, though I prick your thumb


on a map. Rub

your likeness throughout the spill, we’re


inked to be this ineligible. Uncanny,


really, that we 
proved coupledom


as the outcome, even


when the odds were weighed up.


Your sinew, there, at last, wrapped

in a silk

dress, showing off!
Feathered torso,

bright wide gaze, will

lock, or swap wardrobes.


What gets put on reveals


the notes we otherwise


wouldn’t notice


Love

in the time of

Viktor and Rolf