FROM, ELIAS

sisyphus severing ties
       with the mountain
                                                   ignoring the composition of
  								          earth 
as a culmination of what matters
                                                                                alone
                                                              on that mountain
                 sisyphus climbs 
					                      falls
								                 crushed
digs his nails in and rises
                                                              so his torment must
				              	                        	              	    matter

on grindr                     we play the futile game    
 				                 of spicy perfume
					               of pumping veins

                                                       of playing house with a hookup
                                              lighting flower(s) to a mantra of

                    he loves me

                    he loves me

                    he loves me
                                                    not   realizing his absence doesn’t
	                                                  make any of this matter

so the rock falls down the hill
			                                again!
  						                       (and i send you this draft
				 	        while i’m moaning your name)

imagining hands
                                wrapped around my ribs
                             		                                       bracing my back
                                                                 when i push that rock up a hill
and i climb
		          fall
		                             crush
				                           you with that boulder!