EMPATHY DE VICE
by John Eivaz
|© John Eivaz (firstname.lastname@example.org) 1999|
out of this deadening
I wish for nothing --
I still want...
Would bad dreams turn to sharp psychosis
if I stoked them with absence
and wrapped my absences in mystery,
to arouse your delicate paranoia?
I would like to see that:
dishevelment of mentation,
assault upon feelings from feelings
ragged from overuse, by
the razor's edge of desire.
Psychosis, even something less dramatic--
I'd like to see that on you.
Could I command a sense of intrigue,
enough to have you plod through my stink
and ignore my ugliness
and accept your unwelcome obsession
of immersing yourself within me?
I could do the cage thing
and watch your love attend,
the etherized rag of lust,
the welcome release of self from self
into acrid grey mutation, never ceasing.
Caught, you could tell that story,
I'd like to hear that from you.
Can it go long enough
that when it ends, it injures you--
same as your tongue crippled me,
your eyes wandering too far into mine
blinded me, and your body,
impenetrable as heaven
and as worthy a goal
forced nightmares upon me--
pains and dismembers you
as your wound of disappearance
has ravaged me.
I'd like to feel that,
feel that as it happens to you.
© John Eivaz (email@example.com) 1999
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