headlining

i've got these big eyes
small holes in my lobes
some words in my heart
and your name on my tongue
but it tastes like shit so
i don't know why i keep
introducing you to
your ceiling-- although
if it can understand me past
the duet of your headboard
and your bedsprings
in accordance to our hasty weight
is beyond me--
you, however, are silent the whole time
and when you finish
you roll off of me and lie back,
staring up into the dark
your eyes the same color
as your corners
i ask what's wrong and you tell me
it's hard to get off
when you've got a child's eyes staring up
at you
and when you look to the side you can see through
to the sexstains on your mattress
which reminds you of my poetry,
and you hear your name falling into my
words&headlines