hijacked by the latitude and longitude of ships passing in the long dark night

i.

You're like an accident--
I can't help but turn my head
in your direction,
I want to stuff my panties
in your mouth after a week
of fucking your brains out
just to shut you the fuck up;
but your poems keep coming
and I can't shoot to kill your muse
any more than I can mine,
so if it's OK with you,
let's call this vexation a draw
and we both walk away before
we suffer one thousand and three ignominious deaths
when the two of us try to embrace the thought
that is the other.

ii.

there aren't enough frogs in all of kingdom
come to tip the arrow with the poison that
has already seeped into our poems.

And if you think this poem was about you
you're probably mistaken, please don't read anything
into my poem that isn't yours.

iii.

I'm queen of the underworld and mistress of the forest,
I am your worst nightmare knocking at your door
awakening you with sharp stabs over every inch
of your body
you are just about as clueless
as a mayfly
I should perhaps just put you out of your misery
but misery loves company
in the rules of my engagement
though I'm fair enough my darling,
so I give you one last warning
that you're probably already too weak to heed:
don't open, never open that door for me,
not even a crack--
I'll steal your dreams and then your soul
I'll reopen every wound
that has marked you in ways you think
you have forgotten,
I will make you bleed
I will make you weep
I will rip out your heart
still beating in your ribcage,
I will wear your dark feathers
one by one
until you moan with pleasure,
until you beg to go back to hell

now smile, my love,
take a cold shower,
it's already morning.