once upon a time 
                   after keith haring

i found my pleasure face
in a dumpster of swords. 
put on a paper machete mask
looked in the mirror & said, "this is my lover."
come with me, there is a room
no one else knows about where
all the gills go to drink air.
we can kneel. we can call each other
"cathedral" or "daddy" or "foxglove."
they say there was a time before
humans when everything was gay. 
there was no such thing as a 
right angel. instead, we curved.
spine. tongue. wing. mouth as a front door 
to a house of candles.
time was a place we stretched 
instead of spent. we said, "one more"
& "will you let me come again." 
is this my lungs or yours? a staircase
leading no where. we would climb it anyway
& take turns imagining heaven. 
field of strawberries. field of thumbs.
rejoicing in the shadow of limb
or a tree. this was where
i found my body. carved it from soap 
& bone. showered with the others
until i was as thin as glass. 
no one should have to remember
what it was like before they were gutted.
but, then again, where else 
would i be crawling back to 
but your lap of porcelain & windows.