Happiness may strike fatally

in large chunks like invertebrate love

like a woman draws arrows with her eyes

into my hesitant loins

she urges the rut with her arched back

creeping my spinelessness

closing the hole of shyness

with large chunks of her indulgent womb

Hear me sobbing like the dawn

hear her vapor descend

like warm, clammy skin thus

filling my cavities like poetry filling the lacking

the sob falls backward

over the tongue, speechless, into the larynx

like soap washing milk-white hair

sideways on the neck with misty eyes

I wash her out, welling up and willing

indelibly she laps up my surrender

the pit within me, gleaming, she is

covering,

her skin like a sheet

as if the bed was slipping

sliding in her clammy gaze

my body cowardly on trembling legs

fatally

lost smoked

my soul

fatal sacrifice

a haze

of myself