Were we burdened in blaze?
Did not wake up this morning itching to emasculate
and then spontaneously combust.
Would rather not understand the sharp edges
of miscegenation,
how that which is meant to coalesce
Could cut so vividly and deep.
No, but
I, too, crave unicorns,
kisses the beat of butterfly wings
and other elusions.
Allusions not rampant with sex or slavery
But commas in the flesh;
I mean, living, breathing semicolons.
A man threadbare and ready.
Hands wide open,
