alone you are

How kind of you to meet me here, to say,
I shoulder burden of the hurts between
us, meet my needs alone to heal from hurts
transmuted by dear Amar. Worthy colleague,
let me take the hurts and come with me
to higher points, up to the very stars,
above the pages of Analysis
beyond the axioms outside the system.
Come with me and stand in front of chalkboard.
Let's gaze upon the patterns of the hurts,
upon the healing that I know—I've trained,
I know. I know it waits for you just there
beyond event, horizon. How kind of you
to ask my trust, to offer what I must.
So, where shall we begin? I'll take us out:

How kind of you to meet me here. How kind
of her, I'm feeling love for her, my queen.
I know I shouldn't say that this is love,
that what I feel is love, but here it is:
the love of knight for queen, the love of boy
for older sister, love of high esteem,
of joy, of wonder, love of mother, knowing
skilled and valiant patient mother, wise
and bending, bending you to shape that you
are meant to take because the Mother, Maker
wills you so, the Mother who reminds you,
yes I made you, can unmake you, never
come to that, of course, you are safe here.

taboo to compare her to your
mother, such a dirty word, such
intimate and dirty laundry, curse
that cuts. Mother. Call that man
a mother, he knows that you mean
motherfucker, fuck your mother.
If I want to get you, submit you
place you on your back I'll take
a stab at the flesh that made
you, at her face or person, then
you'll see the fire of the man
who shamed that you would go for
jugular, shamed that you would
dare attack his mother. How it
burned to see him hurt you, how
it rose, inflamed my suffering
my passion for your body soft
your scent, the comfort of your
supple breast the smooth and
softness of your skin, oh mother
Motherfucker, if you dare look
at my mother like that one more
time, she's ten of you, a hundred
I'd let a thousand little shits
like you go down into the dust
before I asked my mother to pour
you cups of water.
When they hurt you
wakes my fear my passion to defend
you, maker, I would lose my eyes
my toes, my fingers to protect you
Would you have me lose my dick and
balls as well, of course I would
of course I would, for mother.
Of course I'd open all my holes
I'd welcome rapists in for mother

Alone
how alone you are
when you've let your mother harm
you

How alone you are

I would lose my eyes, be pulverized
to dust and bone of skin, powder
setting on the bark and sticks,
frozen wasted winter water, nothing
soft or cool to drink, but pipes
breaking from the push of ice
to fill your thirst you grimace
take the pain of frozen hearts,
stone walls and doors that closed
upon your finger, pushed away from
mother, door closing and you must
be on the other side, it's too late
to be a baby, stop Mama's Boy,
clinging to your mother. But why
why does he cling like that? What
did she do that terrifies him what
did she do that scares him into
clinging to his mother?

Mama's boy they call me mama's boy
mother nature's son, because I loved
my mother, suffered her, for her I
cried and begged her, be all right.
I read a story of a girl whose mother
passed away. Her father won't get out
of bed. The girl was by herself, twice
left, abandoned. No one there to care
No father, mother. No one there to care

I don't want anything for you
not anything from you EXCEPT YOUR LOVE
don't require you, don't state allegations
don't take you to my station, take you
through the ticket window, stamp you
with the time and date and punch a hole
through you while you wriggle, squeal.
I don't look back at you just after, say
that was fun I want it all again, let's
go again while you, confused and wounded
wonder what is going on
I don't punch and
peck, and perforate you anymore, I
really just want to love you. My mind
is always coming back to you and something
says tell her, tel her, tell her how
you feel, say all the wise and verbal
content platforms, image platforms
where the art machines make lovely memes
of only text, no image, nothing beautiful
at all, just text that says, you stupid
fool, you only have to tell her I love you
and then you'll know if it's a no
and when you have a no, cut loose,
move on, you need to get a husband fast
you need to get a child now, why do you
think you've time to wait, get your ducking
ducking ducking I said fucking ducks into
a row. Pinterest told me so, every platform
offers fungible reward, if you say I love
you, maybe not this time you'll find
your lord, your queen to take you up the
tower make you royalty, not servant any
longer.
Pinterest says it's not her, Twitter
says shut up you entitled little boy, you
never told her that you love her. Tumblr
says yes tell her tell her tell her, face
your fear your cowardice, the problem, boi
is that you never told her, Manosphere, be
Alpha tell the bitch you love her, don't
make her guess, don't waste your time, get
it over with, be a fucking man and do it
little beta gamma delta cuck. Do you think
they poured elixers in your decanter to make
you dull and ugly? You are Helmholz, Mustafa
Mond, A double plus, a Savage, and you stand there
fearful, frozen in the icy powdered dust,
how dare you never tell her, tell her tell
her tell her, I tell you stop it stop
fucking with my head stop telling me to
tell her. I HAVE TOLD HER. Told with word
and gesture, touch and censure. I've told
her that I love her, (Tumblr says that's just
queer friendship, have you really TOLD her?)
I've told her plain as day and clear as silk,
yes, clear as silk, not how it looks but how
it feels around your face, when you wrap
it up in silk and know that blinded as always
are to what's to come, that what you finally
have is clarity. Push everything away, let
my eyes have darkness, I've got clarity

I've told her, I'll wrap you up, I've wrapped
her up. Had I the blue and dark cloths of the
night, would you tell Yeats or Keats he never
told her that he loved her? Would you tell
Newton that he never loved her? He only hung
the sun for her. He only bent the moon for her.
Tell Picasso he'd
never made his feelings clear, all those
pieces of his ear, they don't say what three
words should say, of course he wasn't brave
enough to say three little words. Fuck you,
how dare you say to men who lived who lived
more bravely than you even dream, they never
dared to tell her that they love her. Fuck you
you stupid Pinterest, you stupid Facebook
friends, you lousy dearest Abby, Savage
says here's how you take it up the ass
from the one you love, but hold up did you tell
her, that you love her? You little mouse.

I love you, my dear friend, I love you, XY
zed I love you, no but really love you
not a joke, not just what lovely friends
would say, I love you like I wanna fuck you
except I don't. See, I don't want to take
you, steal you off to ride you through the
canyons. I just love you. I want to go
where we will go. I want to make us who
we are. I want to keep on loving you. How
dare they tell me what I have to do? How
dare they say to me, a man who lives, who
lives more bravely than they'd ever dream
that I must tell you words, a formula, to
test your blood against the litmus, and if
you come up negative then I move on because
I must? How dare they tell me what to do,
a man who lives and dies with every breath,
with every pebble treasured on my path?
I paid my dues, I made my offspring, I'm
satisfied, I did my duty, now let me go.
Release me from the family name, release
me from the lordship of the castle, release
me from the cage my maker put me in when
she guilty, craven, shamed of what she'd
done saw she'd made a baby who might--we
can't allow it--someday wish to be a man.
Release me, maker, let me go, let me say
I love you, yes I loved you. How could I
not, what else was I supposed to do but
love you? What else could I be born to do?
Did I ever say it? No.

Let me be to leave you, Mother, loves you
still but leaves you, mother, benefactor.
Not drive my lover to the edges of her
pleasure, not be husband, master, not be
the one to puncture her because it's what
I take as fare, what lover takes by right
There is no wrong, no writing says we must
do anything, I had enough babies for us,
The Only Must is Trust. I'm sure it's
needled on some Pinterest board, embroidered
tucked away in cellar, from the hands
of mother's mother's mother, wrapped in
silk and skin and gathering dust.


"I love you." "Yes, I know."
how many times I have to say it?
Say, my dear, I love you, and reply
you back, "I know, I know. Come back
again to me, my love, in week or month
and say it yet again, you love me yes
again you love me" and I know? How many
times till I believe you how many times
till I don't hear, I'm only saying this
to be polite, I only say this to avoid
your manly childish wrath, I only say
to keep myself alive and never let
(again?) be violated by a friend, how
many times I need to hear it, how many
times we have to say it, how many times
you have to call me love before I
trust?
...The Only Must is Trust
how many times before I must?