dragon's tail & flog,
he tests them first on his 
own forearm, a careful dom

the ceiling fixture becoming
wick to drip hot wax down our backs.

i tell st blaise about how monsignor 
crossed the candles at our throats.

May Almighty God at the intercession 
of St. Blaise, Bishop & Martyr, 
preserve you from infections of the throat
& from all other afflictions 

a yawn becoming a rash,
swallowing glass,

the words that have stood 
on my teeth like bridge jumpers.

i tell him i want him to choke me

our safe word is water

his coarse fingers, sturdy as
my father's

liberation is to
for once 
be in control of 
how & where you're deprived of air,

alone on the floor with 
a floral neck tie i never wear, 

temporary asphyxiation, a scarf 

the sick animals find us,
smack against the window,

the pigeons & palm-size sidewalk birds,
grey rabbits & splotchy tabby cats 

circling the bed, they claw us
& we love it, the teeth of it all

i can't heal you anymore
he pleas. 

i have no more miracles

i wipe his tears
with the sheet, they're hot &
dry like wax

i dig my nails in his back, 

a climax of leather,
cuffed to the bed post,
red-wrist me lover,

here & now is
where i want to be bound. 

what is pain when prayer for?