pawn shop boy--12/10

People shouldn't fall in love this way.
But then again, everyone does.

-db.
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Pawn Shop Boy.

I should have left you at the corner
of one night stand and friend.
I should have let you sink into your vaccum
of broken CD's and flashing numbers
(the credit card companies are calling.
I should be very afraid.)
and cold blankets that reached up
to meet the curtains of our eyes
smeared black from last night
and all it didn't mean.

I find you strange as bread mold.
I want to put you under a microscope
as easily as you slide onto me.
I want to adjust the lens and see your white fibers
tremble under my green eye.
The little black pods, considering me
considering how my organs must resemble brass valves
and my throat a plastic reed
from your third grade recorder
full of spit and knocked-out syllables.

I want to freeze onto you
like a tongue on a flagpole.
I want to sniff out the sunshine in your hair.
I want to feel the magnificence of your piano hands
with which you rocket me skyward, running into birds
like a flying windowpane.
I want to cradle you like snow around the dead crow
that I know lies where your heart should be
(but it is beating.
it is still beating.)