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superman ice cream COLLECTIVE/blog
I close my eyes and imagine a flowered urn.
I imagine holding you, broken-necked
dying. I will tell you not to be afraid.
I will tell you to breathe slowly.
You are sticky with blood, your tongue
swelling, but I will not turn away.
I will press my face to yours, tell you
there is nowhere else for me to go but with you.
I want to sleep. I want to eat dead stars.
I will say your name like an animal. I will kiss you.
I will tell you that mine is a melting,
unmerciful love, that there is no such thing
as disregard. You will taste like iron, like body,
like earth. Your hair, matted, thick with blood
will smell like you, like sprouting trees.
But there is only so long I can watch
until I will start to shake, until I will want
to be washed away. I am unwilling
to let you become a trick of light, one
afternoon, a heavy body. I will curl up
beside you, will the gunman to return.
I will kiss his face to hear his phrases,
to feel his dirty hands drain me, to set the barn
on fire and let me burn away beside you.
I will have the stillest kind of sadness.
But if he never comes, I will not give up.
We will be on our backs, left in the ground.
If I can drag you, I will.
The lake is deep enough,
the fence charged.
.