side by side,
tubes and needles and monitors and various torturing instruments
designed to extend mortalís agony and hospitalsí bank accounts
encasing us like a spiderís web.
where the hell is that spider and his scythe shaped mandibles?...
bite! you bastard.
his? I heard the wheezing whisper to my left...
smartass to the end, huh, woman?
how the hell did we end up together
in that ante-chamber of next and forever and maybe?
lots of hell lately, wheezed the same voice, still to my left,
this time sneaking in some kind of cackle, I guess supposed to be a chuckle.
of course we ended up together,
side by side,
even if this was not anymore my glass castle it was still my imagination
and my poem
and my death, no one was going to steal any of these away from me,
and I cackled slash chuckled myself.
say something, I prodded, trying to turn my head left
and hearing something plop out of my mouth.
say something, woman, I tried again with my last half operating lung.
you called me smartass.
proof that I love you, only someone you love you call smartass
and then make this side by side arrangement.
quiet. I knew it wonít last long, she had to say something,
delectable smartasses always have to say something
even if they had less lung than me by now.
youíre an idiot.
finally. a statement I liked. there was more coming, I knew.
if youíre so smart and with no ass extension
and if this is your imagination and poem and death
you could at least have put us in the same bed
and given us some more lung
and less tubes and needles and monitors.
we could have even fucked. I wish I had your talent.
donít forget, after all I am part of this entire arrangement.
hell, yes, another one, yes, she was right.
I thought she would have preferred a respectable setting.
respectable? the shrieking laughter worried me,
it might have been my poem but I might still lose her before...
before what? it was a wheeze, sure.
it was also a plea, an orison, a claim, a command.
hell, yeah, she was right, she was the smart and I was the ass
and started tearing out of our bodies the needles, the tubes,
I let the monitors crash to the floor and armor plated the door
and steel meshed the windows
and covered the floor with red roses and invaded the air with monarch butterflies...
I hope that, sometime soon, you are going to use the word fuck...
...before we die, yes, I know,
and the two beds were one
and our flesh turned fire
and our ravenous bodies monster ogres feeding on each otherís life
is this what you meant? I asked.
she helped me extract myself from herself, licking me clean,
humming stars spangled banner forever
and finally cuddling upon my quarter lung
like a puppyís tail having found its puppy.
I wondered if we were supposed to die of a heart attack, then decided against it.
good, she murmured, all wheeze gone, all crumbling flesh gone, limber.
thereís pounding on the door, she added.
I thought it was my heart, I answered wittily, knowing that not even an atom bomb
would knock down that door before I agreed to it.
is this what you meant? I repeated,
remembering that I received no answer.
again that quiet, heralding the ominous answer... almost.
I knew there was going to be continuation,
I knew what the continuation was going to be having run it in my head for hours now,
I wanted to hear her saying it, asking it, commanding it.
could you... we, repeat that... ahm... word?
fuck, you mean?
ahm... meaning yes.
I repeated it,
we repeated it
until the bed springs turned limp and the flesh turned meat
and death fell asleep, exhausted, despairing.
do you love me? she asked.
I didnít answer. I did not want to break magic