Domestique: Dominique, Dominic

The one-two three on the bath-room
door and I listen and you fight play
fight a little more with your signature
chalk
and your idiot talk
and just catch me in your jaws
if you want to

betrayal always wanted what betrayal couldn't have and
whoever thought we didn't talk was stark
pure
mad


and
shiver lights burnt up your tights the heat was on the floor
and the light's drawing shut on the bath-
room FLOOR

and I'm drawing breath I'm drawing death
I don't fight lions
anymore

until you changed
and came
and the same
house was always poor
under

my face, floss fights the way I can't
the way I was the way I chant you'd think they'd hear
they always don't they never do

forever won't

you trace the height and all our nights
white particles weigh little less
the ends of strings hold all our wings
these are no more than kites you harsh
confess
not anymore
not anymore
I shut I shat I shot
I slam
the door
not anymore.