Caliphate

You are alternate

Slip shod, rough shod

Diagrammatic

All expanded in prophetic curves

I grow your shoulders with lines

Fill your gaps

With shading for the bedside

With incense smoke whispers

Nihilist beetles unpicked my threads

But I had summers for eyelids

I lose you on paper and under it

I have drawn my love out

She retreats behind graphite

With her eraser smile

I cannot tame you with stationary

Rip you up

Start me again