She strolled the night, calling you Pablo, her love illuminating the moon. She's forever remembered in black and white. Fallen and forgotten. B-movie queen.
Oh Pablo, can you recall, the way she spread open your groin, your ribs, searching for your heart.
This is why I defy you Pablo! To this day I will not open your books!
It was I who loved and suffered. It was I who touched her. But with you, she performed literary necrophilia. Your tear-stained fading picture warming from her eyes-gaze love.
This is why Pablo I turn eye from your sun, moon, and fleshy woman fruit.
(published in 2005 in American Dissident)
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