PK Wakefield
PK Wakefield
5 hours ago

i loved you
that you were something
between the flesh and eyes;

doing with precise smallness
your hands within my hands.

PK Wakefield
PK Wakefield
4 days ago

"I tried."

After all, "I love you."

(what more could i do?)

PK Wakefield
PK Wakefield
4 days ago

loving tried sorrily a girl
to make out
of too much whiskey
something which

loves it too.

PK Wakefield
PK Wakefield
4 days ago

writing–i'm not sure–
maybe this
or that,

to fill perhaps;
between which nothing
is but pale.

PK Wakefield
PK Wakefield
5 days ago

the tiny thing life has hands making hands into gold against light
flashing against dark and bones beneath skin the smell of roses
and taste of a girl neck drunk in short hair and black nails chipped
catching in the chambers of its heart the easily nothing blood
that makes its hands to make laughter, saltsun, thighs deeply new
and rush thrusting with quiet silk and the neatest trimming of

PK Wakefield
PK Wakefield
7 days ago

how again these alive with men breaths
go to work and stop their living
on balance and "problem solving"

every morning to make
just stuff with which to have
a little this and a little that of
life and drink merrily with

friends, a neat car
and to
longingly thrust
between the lives of others
even more life:

it is completely appropriate;
and to be strange is maybe
responsible if you have an cat and
have to get home early to feed him–

(cats can't feed themselves)

he says under the breaths
he is
going to work
on balance
and "problem solving"

Every  Morning

PK Wakefield
PK Wakefield
7 days ago

hello dying you look so pretty
in short shorts suddenly
over skin a little,


with increased health
the air up outside my


each graciously
perceiving thigh
a thing full with
lush and wonder




                             groped with hair
                               by gold
                          and like you
                                   dying also


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