PROLOGUE: The Metamorphosis of Laughter

PROLOGUE:
The Metamorphosis of Laughter

Lately, I’ve been sleeping under a pyramid of desire,
hoping, I guess, to have my razor blades sharpened.
But this morning, I cut myself shaving again
when I looked into the bare light bulb by the mirror
and in its singing filament heard her laughter.

This is a persistent longing,
but I will hammer it into a tiny ring–
one more link in the chain of passion
I wear under my shirt.

And when some future lover notices my gold chain,
I will take it warm from my body and drag it
lightly across hers. It will tickle her nipples
and drop into the cavity of her navel,
and she will laugh.