He had to eat in solitude

to look at him would be grotesque.

The food he forced into his mouth

had no flavor or essence.


He knew that it was time feed

from sound of stomach turning.

His skin was thin and caving in

for taste he had no yearning.


He sang songs that sounded like mysteries

with utterance unknown

without the means to form the words

his notes were hums and groans


He hid his face so often

from furrowed brows his wretchedness

better not to get too close

spare community duress


Isolation, hunger and shame 


Contemplating things you never said

from all of the signs  interpereted

counting liars who play such games

running in circles, calling names

insisting I am fine, I'm fine


Antonia!  Ay the curve of her face,

the silk of her mouth!

Her eyes so soft and hot enough to melt.

What shame I have been brought to with such affection for

Antonia!

She has mended me only to rip me open again.


I am a chest of sutures

with a wound on top

and foolish me, I long to be sewn over again by her tender hand

even if she rips me open again when she is done


That is what Antonia's touch does to me

She makes me right and wrong

all at the same time. 


I am brave enough to be undone

if my Antonia wishes me broken.

If ever to lie in her presence

leaves me shivering and bare?

I am the man...

only her I am broken and whole!

Immortal Anotonia! 

Undo me forever!




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