Monday, January 24, 2011
Thursday, August 26, 2010
You opened your arms
to find me waiting.
I wanted to make you aware
of this void,
which has swallowed all of your old belongings.
The old rug that she picked out,
with a tacky motif of spirals and scones,
done in limp shades of brown.
It's synthetic fibers
melting and smoking, eventually disintegrating into itself.
The cast iron pan, that made eggs and bacon on cold winter mornings.
When you would forget your slippers
and stand one foot on top of the other,
while you waited in front of the stove.
Waited, with your eyes closed. Replaying the night before,
when she said she didn't love you. You couldn't keep her.
She came up behind you;
the bacon is starting to burn.
Her arms wrap around your middle
and her face nuzzles into that crook between your face and shoulder,
where the skin is soft.
You want to hit her across the jaw
with the cast iron pan. Push her down
onto the frigid linoleum floor.
You want to straddle her stomach, hold down her shoulders
There was nothing left in you
that didn't remind you of her.
It all laid broken, in disrepair.
Nothing but a warped skeleton remained.
Its shelves sagging
under the weight of forgetting.
I was called here.
After I saw your eyes
that laid flat.
I had to open the windows, let the light reflect.
I bustled around your place, tsk tsking under my breath
at the dust
you had let gather
in your absence.
I set away, to make things new.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
There was an accident of lovers one night.
Coming together, no one heard a sound.
Their forceful collision
was muffled by the wet grass they fell on,
its blades reflecting the moon on their arched backs.
Crushing crocus buds under bent knees and splayed hands
they came together,
just like the night.
In the darkness, and up so close
they looked the same as any other.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
fingering the surfaces of flimsy covers,
I unhinge my binding, making me bound
I am bound to you
my cover cannot contain me, flimsy as it is
overwhelming my eyes,
vision not founded.
consider what truths you have concealed,
through artifice and charm,
proof will then be erased,
of your animalness
of your savageness
poor sad one: no one will think you uncontrolled.
No one will consider you.
Because you are what you hide,
quick to hide the proof, by abiding by the canon.
What pain is it, to conceal your shadows?
What in time do you miss?
All the time it takes to remain timeless, unlined and untouched.
How can you deny your body the privilege to be unafraid?
Show that, you too, are savage.
That you cannot control the power of yourself.
Beside me, you lay.
feeling the skin that separates us, gurgling words that unify our pinprick pupils.
A tunnel that we can crawl through, a hole that we can slip through
that great pull of falling.
There is grace in passion,
there is potential in loving.
Underneath the skin we create something of a majesty.
On that we learn to develop around ourselves, as if to extend the capital that we posess.
Without this glow:
this internal knowing flicker of being
you are nothing.
exist on strings
that tense and sing
pluck and wail
I hurdled my body
(cramped as it was, with its need for flesh)
towards your gaping mouth
your popping finger joints and exageratted limbs
so I could feel you
and how your long hands
felt on my wailing skin
which was never played quite right
You were running towards me
your full pockets making music with the loose change
that you collected, and didn't know how to spend.
A moment of recognition occurred,
as your mouth hung open in a haphazard grin.
Your eyes opened so much that I could hardly stand their vulnerability.
Vulnerability that I took for granted.
That I took from you, like that loose change you didn't know how to lose.
I saw you again last week. But you wouldn't look at me,
wouldn't risk trusting your eyes (hardened now, reflections of light).
You ran from me,
I had taken too much.
You slept on the front porch
and I left you outside.
To be away from me.
It's funny how time has brought us apart,
it used to be all we had.
The screen door slams, here you are
standing before me with your face turned down.
Away from me.
You say don't bother,
and I wouldn't anyway.
underneath the sun,
above the weight of my plodding feet.
They (terrified of flight) aim to keep me here, shielded from that mirage on the horizon
that shimmers and waves to me.
I don't know what I would find away from where I am.
I whimper earnestly and let my head drop.
That is how badly I want you.
My fingers curl up
like little claws,
I am a monster ruled by one objective.
I want to tear into you
and get to know you quickly.
Your skin and your sinews, your knees and your pupils:
that should all be for me.
The last time I saw you, we sat in the dark.
I was calm being there next to you.
You say that nothingness is all you want,
a hole made of static to swallow you up.
Getting lost in the cavity of that mighty pupil,
you will say "it is so dark, I cannot see the stars, I have lost my way".
I will be there searching and pulling for your arms.
Wanting to get you out of that deep space you cannot feel.