William Slaughter
Love Song / Death Song
You, because
you are my enemy,
I would love you
to death
if I could.
I could love you
to death
if you would let me.
Will you let me?
You want a song,
a song of your own.
Every woman
should have
a song of her own
if she wants it.
You want it.
This is your song.
It is your song
because you are
singing it.
I am singing it
too, because
you are my enemy.
I would love you
to death
if I could. I can.
Ghosts
I have my ghosts
too, the same
as you. They
are real to me,
fill the night
with their presences.
I give them
names, faces,
places to live in
my head. They
have nothing
to do with you,
are remote,
inaccessible
to you. Dead
voices saying,
remember me
remember me.
But you do not
remember them.
You remember me.
I know that,
know you,
where to find you
—in darkness
that obscures
everything—
with your poems,
lies. Eyes
that are not eyes
but seas I drown
my ghosts in
until only my self
remains. I am
here, all here.
So what are you
going to do
with me and your
own ghosts now?
Hard Words
Your hands
have a language
all their own.
Words
are in them,
hard words
for me
to understand.
Hard words,
only you
understand them.
Hard words
like stones.
I imagine you
throwing them
at me,
wanting to
needing to
hurt me
with them.
But
if you do
when you do,
I promise you
I will
catch them
in my hands...
have a language
all their own
too. I will
put them
in my mouth.
I will
suck them
suck them,
until
they love me
as I do them.
Hard ...
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