Steph Bruzon

by S. Bruzon

takes more than an arm and a leg to keep you,

but I try.

/

animal bodies, cornered and

pre-designed.

/

everything is gone before we know it,

but I try

/

be by your side, incase you bleed.

/

I fertilize the sacrifice inside of me.

/

you feed on its frills of

song.

/

and if the bullets fly, I’ll be by.

/

If the bullets fly, I’ll be by

your side.

/

I pay to please.

when you get me giving,

I see

more possibility,

/

still not,

the truth.

/

the house of pleasure is ancestral,

there’s one for every time,

you host operatic highs,

peeling thighs,

excretion,

exertion,

elation.

/

the bad things are kind to me.

/

bad things akin to me.

/

do you remember?

(beyond what felt good)

/

In few words we spoke at the horizon,

our skies and stars rising, of what makes a body

worthy.

/

I modeled myself after that thirst

and came back dry, heaving, I am like if God

himself were unbelieving.

/

I’ve taken skin like a sacrament,

I like him, I like her, like to,

/

but I’ve never been untrue:

everything I’ve touched has turned into you.

/

do you prefer feathers or fetters?

/

do you remember?

/

bent over,

boiling to swollen meat,

oh, when you sweat your soul

out over me in salted, silken tears,

and I could only laugh at the misery,

our spoiling fantasy, but if it’s all that you could give.

/

If it’s all that you could give.

/

when the bullets fly,

you know that I know

holding it in is, at once, letting it go, only

slow, slow.

/

so I’m stricken to the point of grief

and–

/

there is no man left for me to believe

in–

/

so I’ll be your Jackie O–

take hold of what’s left of your brain

when it blows

because I like being ignored

/

oh, I like being ignored

/

before I am your woman,

before I am adored.

/

and when the bullets fly,

/

I’ll be the subject

of your house of pleasure,

/

host your operatic highs and

peeling thighs until

the terrible things

bind us tenderly together.

/

until you give it to me worse,

and it really makes it better.

/

then, when it starts to feel wrong,

oh, if it starts to feel wrong,

I’d like it better if it’s wrong,

/

well,

what took you

so long?