I love talking to you
With you I have shared the world
I am trying to keep interest
But my mind is twisted in a swirl
Late in the night
Is not when I want to speak
But it is now that you awaken
When I would rather retreat
I am always here for you
That you should never forget
But I am glad to have not been around
So I would prefer not to live it
I love you so dearly
You will never be replaced
But for now let’s stay quiet
Until again tomorrow we are face to face
I hope all my days are filled
with bellies stuffed with
love and laughter
so loss and longing
are far from me
when memory catches up.
I know what it is not to sleep,
the spectre of Death at the foot of the bed
blinking
breathing the opposite of air
I know what it is to count,
shadows, palpitations, regrets
fear
a lock being picked with long fingernails
Why have you come?
I whisper under covers
What do you want with me?
my ears pop in the vacuum
To prove to you the sun will rise.
To prove to you that I am nothing.
I feel it all— every
sized switch flipped, tidal rhythm of
hair breeze-riffled, my blood
from tomato vine’s rising sighs, from
sun-dappled weedy patch of soil,
great wave, this shared air.
In the room: a small moon
Celestial bloom in the corner,
“It was a coyote,” he says,
but he missed the improbable orange flash,
the bushy tail dipped in ash,
four-legged fireball,
sunset’s living remnant.
I believe.
Is not sweet
It kinda stinks
Involuntarily emits
looking for an exit
arrives without
an invite
poof there it is
not pleasant
at least not to others
I’m fine with it
What a relief
I like the smell
the letting go
of all things perfect
or my narcissism
It’s better outside
wrecking my insides
longing for a release
here it goes
Let it rip
I feel much better
Moonlight and street light blocked by blackout curtains
Golden silk tickles my nose
And I am forced to untangle
To rub at this itch on my nose
The warmth of my limbs protesting
This new chill as the fan stays on
(my choice)
Rhythmic snoring of unbothered dogs at the foot like waves
A slight murmur as you roll counter clockwise back an hour
A new moon to face me eyes closed
Arms seek out to ensnare the thermal vent that temporarily pulled back
But I am the ocean’s tide as I press into your embrace this night
Golden silk, sandy hair pressed against my closed azure eyes
I breath in home
And my nose itches again
I am
an indecisive
slice of lifestyles
two jives wive’d
to opposite ends of my knife
I am
what winds are wrought
what wells are drawn
what inklings are allowed morning air
Why do pieces
strike at one another
maybe timing’s off
maybe something else in the fore
maybe craving more
maybe oceans in-between
shores of war
and dreams of peace
funny names that I didn’t know were funny
one color guns and swords and shurikens
loosely held by tight clenched hands
and tight clenched grins
shaped by an immortal life of action
villains were stopped and lines were crossed
bad guys became good guys and,
yes, good guys became bad guys
my three favorites would get their happy ending
and then lose it when I would try again
they were the very first characters
in the first stories that I ever made up
