Issue 74, Fall-Winter 1978
Nothing But Color
For Yukio Mishima
I didn't write Etsuko,
I sliced her open.
She was carmine inside
like a sea bass
No viscera, nothing but color.
I love you like that, boy.
I pull the kimono down around your shoulders
and kiss you.
Then you let it fall open.
Each time, I cut you a little
and when you leave, I take the piece,
broil it, dip it in ginger sauce
and eat it. It burns my mouth so.
You laugh, holding me belly-down
with your body.
So much hurting to get to this moment,
when I'm beneath you,
wanting it to go on and to end.