melissa celardo

wouldn’t of said
what i said,
but i thought
you were dead.
i was willing to be
haunted by you.
chop wood.
rape myself in
a crowed elevator.
juice my veins
with turpentine.
if you are alive,
be my zen master.
i will read my poem
“melissa” for you.
she is not catholic.
her red lips
bleed trust.
i lie honestly so
the globe is happy
for her.
melissa’s undefined,
a blessing disguised.
a golden gate bridge.
we read and breathe.
i read each line twice.
we contrast words.
she previews
my oddities and fears.
our age is agnostic.
she is worthy
of crucifixion.
if i am principled,
i will be
a loyal comrade.

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