Necrophilia is a dead man walking through me

Necrophilia is a dead man walking through me


When i close my eyes
i see nothing
but my imagination
the sound of Om
echoing through
the antechamber of my mind

my heart is a lace curtain
my heart is a paper tiger
aflame
with thoughts of You

i am useless
to the world outside
i am cloudy
tonight
ruthless
with desire,
wanting You

i smell You
close to me,
i touch
Your hardening--
trace the shaft
of my memory,
the roundness
of our intensities
throbbing
in my hands

You are gone

what is left of You
lies in Your grave
in Your native soil
I resurrect You
again
and again

Your headstone
will not speak
with me.