i don’t want to love you
anymore
i’d rather love books
and words
and the sea
when it rages
i’d rather love
adventure and
late nights
filled with smiles

i don’t want to hide
anymore
i’d rather fly
to a far away mountain
and scream
at the top of
a blue peak
i’d rather explode
with virtue
like a light—
a star
who has met
it’s end

i don’t want to love you
anymore
i don’t want
the sun to fall
i don’t want
my coffee to go cold
or my cigarettes
to wage war
on my lungs
but there’s little to do
when the universe
twists
in it’s inevitable ways

x.

understand that nothing is real.

**.

search for art in all that you see (for art is present in all things).

***.

art is everything, nothing is real. we are left to conclude that art is nothing, nothing is art, or perhaps everything is nothing-which makes art more real than nothing, because it is in fact something.

xxxx.

when we smoked cigarettes in the alley way during winter, our backs against the cold brick wall; well, darling, that was art.

xxxxx.

you made poems and paintings and songs and dances, but i’d never seen anything more real (or perhaps less real) than the way your eyes looked when they were in love. and that, well that was the truest art there could ever be.

xxxxxx.

understand that your love is everything, and everything is art, but nothing is real, or art is nothing. my words will never quite be right, but your eyes in love were the rightest thing that never existed -(or existed more than anything).

“how do I look today
was it worth holding my hand?”


“darling,
i’m holding the hand
of all of my dreams
you look perfect
don’t doubt a thing”

he spoke in poems
always told her
she was beautiful
dipped her back
parallel to the ground
when he kissed her
like they were always
in a black and white movie
he bought her diamonds
and never let go
while she slept

at the park one day
his hand shook in hers
and he said simply
“darling,
i’m a woman
the operation is tomorrow
if you leave
well, you leave
but my love will never die”

she looked at his beard
and his old green eyes
she decided then
not to let love cry

*“darling,
dont you grieve
tomorrow you’ll look
the same to me
i’m holding the hand
of all my dreams
you’ll look perfect
don’t worry about a thing”

our brains are only
soggy ventriloquist creeps
who never leave home

If I held your palm to my heart in the moonlight
would the soon-to-be sunlight matter much?
We could only whisper and never speak aloud,
stay forever underneath where nobody can see.
As long as your lips are mine to taste, no amount
of darkness could overcome our time spent in the night.
The curve of your neck I know is lonely,
your hands cold, eyes tired, and your lips dry.
I’ll cure you in the night, forever whispering
the world’s best kept secret to the bare dark.

the way you wanted me
is too much to bear
now
my shaking hands
and solemn acceptance
are gone
i just want you
the look in your eyes
the guttural moans
the way you said
“make love to me”
is always haunting
in my time of need
and
i go back to when
my lips were hot
on your bare skin
cry out
and continue
to wish forever

it turns autumn and
leaves fall and spin-
nature’s dancers
graceful and neurotic
who seem to make love
to earth
as the inner manifestation
of my every thought
and yearning
naturally,
how could i keep
you off of my mind
my soul did not teach my body
how to **** relentlessly
like the summer heat
All i want to do
is make love to you
swiftly and gently

just as the leaves fall to the ground
i will fall to you
you will fall to me