when you talk, you
hook little clusters of words
to my collar and call it the most
beautiful crochet.
communication, my dear
it doesn’t mean:
biting my tongue
until little drops of truth
drip from my lip and
onto my sweater.
(exposed to the world
- so unfashionably)
Feb 6, 2011
Feb 6, 2011 at 7:13 PM UTC
i'm a fool,
your shiny foil.
enhancing elegance
i'm practically-
pragmatic.
deserving girl,
get your dustpan ready
and sweep your dirt
off his stationary feet.
Jan 3, 2011
Jan 3, 2011 at 5:39 AM UTC
i'm rediscovering body heat
in such a foreign way.
you shed that electric blanket.
each fine hair chasing it as it
hovers down my spine.
this body pulsates with cold sweat.
the intimate ocean.
i like your fingers
and how they fit
into the ripples of my ribcage. beneath waves
are fallen sailors.
who wished to drown in my flesh.
Dec 26, 2010
Dec 26, 2010 at 1:57 PM UTC
isolated hibernation
i went digging through the deep freezer
to find affection
nothing but a handful of sores and frost
startled-
your hands melted the ice
your fire gave me life
the same that burned in the pit of my stomach
Dec 13, 2010
Dec 13, 2010 at 12:30 PM UTC
lets write poems under the sky
about intimacy and anatomy
adorned in sheets and flesh
lets take photographs in the dark
exposures of pale faces on black
adorned in mittens and sweaters
lets break our fingers off the piano
crying melodies and harmony
adorned in disappointment and blood
Dec 11, 2010
Dec 11, 2010 at 6:19 AM UTC
whilst here,
you and i,
we melt into the sofa and
compare our bones
just for a while.
whilst here,
here we lay,
stealing for feeling and
assuring sincerely:
"you can stay"
Dec 8, 2010
Dec 8, 2010 at 4:06 PM UTC
sweetie, mornings have never felt more like headaches
pulsating under your olive skin;
with your open mouth
and we don’t even recognize your bones anymore.
your twisted wrist, press against that hallow chest-
the perfect incline to an obedient pose.
“shadows”, the camera man blames.
for stretching your skin over that pseudo-structure.
protruding collarbones hovering above that plain
white t-shirt.
standing in front of pretty floral wallpaper.
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 1:21 PM UTC
on an account of being mardy,
these sincere words will not
be exposed. nor, fall from my mouth
and land at your feet.
while mine storm through rivers
every settled pebble swirls about
like every thought, every question.
my error, left in a translucent
body of unclear directions.
your silence, left in a flaming pit
burning in my gut.
knowingly enough, everything
will fall to the bottom
and there it will rest.
every pebble, every ash.
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 1:20 PM UTC
feeling:
as an accent
hovering above
the vowels in
your stomach.
leaning towards
with soft feelings.
to push away?
harsh, at most.
an educated swain,
yet even the
stroke of skin
is foreign to you.
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 1:20 PM UTC
you’ll never get it
swift words,
shifting focus
mechanically.
digest and forget.
arise,
those weighty eyelids.
caressing lips and
read upon hips;
“void all fondness”.
yield to fall,
fall- for a poet.
Nov 25, 2010
Nov 25, 2010 at 1:19 PM UTC