Stargazing at California Men’s Colony

Your heat is vacant: guard tower

I walk right up to without getting shot.

Infused with quiet, your arms are your

power, you hardly notice. I know why.

Refused of flight, a lovebird like me is worth a shot.

Who the hell are you

anyway, the big man the trail of your first

in my blood? My face remains pretty,

you report. I’ve no mind to make complaint. Then kiss.

In concrete terms, you hold my face

and used it like a rogue rock does the moon.

You promised stars, I always get to see.

I have tried, so much, but each heart-size star

makes me a bed of night with one tomb in its heart.