Helena Bonham Carter

We, polar in our hearts, polar in our skin
Groaning under the lows of your Kentucky blue gravity
‘Love’ each other somehow
Your love may only be one-hundred-percent cotton deep,
Only loving the passenger seat and the warm air it provides you
But I feel like it’s there, inches away from me
Under glosses and chalks of purple, those squinting eyes of yours still will, at times, turn to meet my shoulders –

O, these wintry days have taught me that acceptance is the only happiness to be found
Unless at the bottom of a lake, sleeping like a baby, you drown
I carry skeleton keys in my pocket so when I press you against me you’ll feel something you like
And not a mess of a man who hasn’t been anywhere
Someone like me can’t quite breathe in the No. 5 woe that your mother has doused you in         
But I know where the kinds who can, floundering in fishnet lie
And you will find them, so lonely, moaning to pull you in

To become part of the map
A desensitized bubble on Their Chart of experience and sexual whir
Like a black fly you find the softest soil
Serene shores for your tidal wave of homo-eroticism and mocked niceties
And you lay your eggs in chasms of clay, equipped with whips and chains

I never knew how I could feel as prey so trapped
Calculating how to propose to the wind
And I know you’ll see places that I’ll never go
And the company of which you seek has no place in the arms of chastity
So, God, just keep her careful
And you, my little alien; save one consolatory kiss
For the sidewalks that drown in your torchbearer’s tears