De Profundis

his shades of blossoms ties

that thread-thin silver bells bracelet

always laced round his left wrist

late-night strolls through chelsea

with mini carmen aida his poodles

the summer-long peach tans

come-on-boy-let’s-dance glance at the cockring

torrid tales of travels

strangers of all colors nested never long

studio of strobes walled by books opera disco

he craved french fries kiwis gin

i tried to see anything but his casket

gorged by the ground

the tears were for myself

one day

i shall be in this

darkness