bratz doll and gi joe in the closet - boaz kaffman

Eat me, kiss, devour me, bugkiss, bleed

My little moon heart boy of juggled plums

And bodies of spirit, kiss. Prey, bring me nights

Of the past full of memorial candles, hold

Me bright against the flame, kiss, watch

How I unfurl into objects you have wanted

To become divine but can not cross the threshold 

into a furtive, kiss, reverie. All daydreams which can stand 

up to time are nothing but water, but what disappears

Becomes my vacant, kiss, body’s impulse

To be consumed. You know me, kiss, you know me

Ripe against you in the heat when I press, kiss,

On your shoulder and the fragrance of your hair 

in the dark. Nothing, kiss, falls asleep 

in the clock. Nothing but the flying, kiss,

Ghouls wrapping their, kiss, fingers 

Around ziggurat hearts, wiring their thoughts

Into switchboards and plugging the holy books

With wine corks like a scuppered boat.

Taboo and omen have the same lips.

Let me place, kiss, vellum in the goat’s belly

Full of poison words. I will be the condemned radiator

Of your deepest desire. The color of magenta,

The lost, shamed pearl in the sock drawer, the underwear

Worn on the airplane across the Pacific, kiss, Ocean

Arriving to the warm hotel room, loosekiss, with an old lover.

I have a toy chest. Within it beats a fake telephone

Where cellophane covers the plastic, kiss, numbers 

As it blinks and pulses and the dial tone remembers.

Boaz Kaffman grew up in New Haven, CT and was educated at Stanford University. He now lives in London and works as a secondary school librarian.