tonight dark chocolate and blood

filled my bath tub with warm milk
and once sipped to guess at what it's like
to love a woman

and once dipped my asshole head in.
the headless journey of a vein's pulsation
toward the cessation of life

to love a woman is no headless journey
not short, and in the end not long enough.
to think i drank through half of it...

tonight the dirty laundry was moved quietly
and all the windows were washed with care
death isn't here, except in shadows
of chocolate and cherries