"as · long · as · your · thought · is · lofty...

just as glee sparkles

remember not much
save the inevitable
crunch of glass like truth

lodged friendly in toes
dancing with ruby splatters
staining berry lips-esque

grueling to not heed
even just a little task
of recognition

windy-lipped evenings
harsh throttled croaks from strangers
speaking of hunger

once in a while miss me

but know. know know the trouble
with lovers.

once you past the first, there is no ease
for the one internal valve that must must
see us through

i dream of you
it is more than warm and it is dark dark
and your heart presses against mine
and we can promise

anything.

but the truth--we cannot tell
cannot hold and cannot touch

it hasn't unfolded and unfolded for our minds
it desires nothing of us but strife
and lover's tears

wherever you are
i remember your touch

wherever you are
you are there without me
and there is a reason

hard to conquer queen of stone,
nothing fatal, until the bone
splinters and splays our mortality
and the shere mortality of your love
for me, so easily swayed by palms
in the brushed air, tender in the day
but a wolve in the evening when
i hang limp from your jaws

i am too slow to fly away
i am too foolish to stay

i want to solve the initial mystery
ask eachother laying face down in the grass
what it is we beat for, what it is that makes
our eyes turn blue and green and brown and ohhh
and our hands, hands to hands. touching but
what is the solution, beyond entropy
behind pathetic push-out love-affairs

i ain't going nowhere
so why come with me
thinking im the strong wing
of the bird that can't quite fly
right anymore, and i thought
i was going to be someone

late in the eve, munching rhubarb jam
i thought of the night i took your
virginity in the middle of a lake

my lips covered in you
tonight, my face covered in jam

and i think the stars wept
the light for us, was our last
innocence and then we were beasts

and still, forgive me
the years strung by on linolium floors
you push your body to me
at night, to tell me the right words

the ones that would change the wind patterns
that beg me away from permenance
the shifting planes that don't plateau they stay
safe, just like when i'm in your arms
forehead presed to yours

and you both. the both i love
and cannot conquer the love
for each--they must run from me

to be free of eros tainted heart-wrench
to sway with the palms dusting the eve
to love a woman who can love you
to undress your desire for my broken back and no-rib habitat
to mistake me for beauty, i was always the beast.

is it hard for you to remember the days of anything but pain

yes, i don't remember what it felt like to not hurt

i am not creative or critical, but cretical

i am a cretin.

think of the distance
between that source of light
and the empty miles of travel

on windy-lipped days in october
new york city stares and shimmies
we've done this too many times--
remember, she isn't your friend

she begs you to come into the streets
on whiskey-eyed evenings--forget
yourself to her unrelenting pull
she never sleeps&you shouldn't either

is it in you? to keep doing another after another--
a walk around finds the crooks bartering organs
in nannies, filching the finder for good blood
and bad too, just the way some kid found their
spleen lynched right from inside them a little
incision and then-someone else can live-
but someone else does die.

to slowshuck the itch of your eyes
on my windowsill each daydevil furrows
your cheeks into molehills and lights the
lantern of kerosine dreams

i dont expect anything but your friendship
but i need to tell you that it's been hard for me
to pretend that i didn't have any feelings for you
and that it was always so taboo and under the table

so i just wanted to be honest for a minute with you
instead of shifty eyes and riddled gazes all
turmoiled up with love and angst and lust

i am begging,

draw with me the sights of
the unseen
and treasure even that
which fails us now
a love that could never have been
anything but a hopeful mystery
i am immobile
and lost in a sea of sorrow
and self-pity, believe me
you are safer to not be my buoy

for years i've written for some reason, there is the question of the writer and the reason. what can we ask of ourselves, what can be imagined:

she is always beautiful in the summer sun, head tilted towards the mountains. her body long, lithe languishing in the grass that curls sweetly under her, but she is the most herself when her fingers trickle through the soil, nurturing like water the life of the roses. inside her there are bass lines and harmonies, some snicker about string theory and compassion that springs into green and grows.

protecting who she is becomes part of who i am, but nothing makes sense

that one song played again last night
the second the sound waves slice my ears
i know i am going to write a poem

about the big boys, the one's scott told me never
to put down on paper unless i knew it was worth it
and for love that will never move again, it is.

there was talk and talk of the wait, then waiting.
and there was aching and aching, finally breaking.
music begun the vigil that never ends, always sound.

violins and piano keys
lovers, haters, enemies
another, aeroplanes....another.

so gaze lazily at the stars
squeeze her shoulder because
you are so in love with her.

it is this song.
i promise, there is
nothing left.

remind me later, what kept us dancing
body waves refracted across body mileau
feminine ferocity lingering in the heat
of legs swerving, my fingers tap
let amber-colored amnesia nestle in
honey, it's going to be a long life
longing from the side lines to remember
what kept me dancing, hands frantic
in the air, vapors of soul frothing
fresh from the tips of my fingers
shooting out the rhythm, the unseeable
sound waves pull strings muscles snap
snap, i'm beseeching those weary to
turn once more turned to movement
i'm saving money for plane tickets
or bus lines in montreal the space is
new, wheels that wheel, roll smooth
waiting, but no soon, not soon
will she arrive to start the day with me
and eat the night with locusts swimming
by through summer, we, her and i
will be lovers when we meet, i will
wait for you, i will allow a standing
ovation for the overture in the key of
C and my harmonica living in the key of
a, when i play i make a flower grow,
exploding from green to quiver in the
sun begging for sugar, in the aqua
asking for water, wait wait for us
too reach for the clouds, hungering
for room to create a guarded heaven
hungering for some variables, some
thing to venerate with volume turn
turned up, made to stay, maybe longer
though in the canyons i hear, nessun dorma
acoustical callings, still, remind me later
what kept me dancing, love of expression
to be the individual swirling the desserts
painting my lover in green, blue and silver
then pressing her to me, to be symmettrical
i am parallel now to movement, i am
still only in light waves, shimmering ever
in power leans and i believe in a single
strand of falling hair and when i tell the truth
i love to sit tall for what i believe in
the endless come and go, the movement about life
the essential renewal, the only truth is
evaporating and then condensing, down here
i believe in maroon and black canvases
going home to kiss the origin where i have
been traveling steadfast, to undo to
understand, the last time i saw her,
she stepped into the slanting rays
with a way, already imprinted on me
on this body of pain, of pain of love
of the essential component of this attachment
still, cool nights bared summer days, naked
lonely creatures, pushing together in june