more than

bank accounts
browsing history
broken bones and all-time
beer pong records
birth certificate,
and
all the
angles
and
eccentricities of my
bare-
naked
body

holy shit:
I don't want you to see
(so afraid that you will)
my humanity.

Machine

We were once
machine men
infinite, insistent
on finite misery
and if we were
machine, not man,
or not machine,
then what fragile mystery
keeps our machine hearts
so intimately distant.

dear

oh, dear,
i'd give up so much
if only the panache
wasn't
so near

yet

changes and dresses
couldn't make all the spent
affection in your past
mean anything but
embraces and caresses.

Departure

I couldn't help pining for the
mysterious egg-laden mother
who had inspired such mad envy
after capturing my heart with her
spiraling, silk, translucent threads.