Sleeping evades me
This ordeal, my ringing ears
Then becomes now. ****.

Morning blooms grey,
even the birds are quiet.
I broke two more hearts this week
and all I want to do
is hear your laugh.

You put strings in my joints

Your wooden face still hangs on my door
and Buddha squats on my granite nightstand.
Tastes of you are everywhere I look.

You shoved it in my face

******* and fighting
my way back to me,
I'm shedding skin
and growing teeth
and breaking bones
and doing **** my way
and loving it,
really loving it.
Still I hate every second
I am not with you.

*The coldness of your nothing

We went from black to grey,
my **** and I,
as we hailed the weak light
of a new day.
The sun is out there somewhere
hidden behind these heavy wet clouds
and you are out there somewhere
with your heavy wet eyes.

Surrounded by a mess of memories,
the shadows pile up
as I cling to visions
of roaming through
ancient castles with
my silver haired goddess.

You

These blankets need your smells,
your fluids
and
your dead skin.

*I'll never let you go

Waking, pale sun burning away the smoky remnants of my dreams of you.
These memories of delightful daydreams.
I create a universe where your spine is steel and our love is a featherbed in a castle.
Our heat fills the cold stones
as greyhounds and bulldogs share the halls with young boys laughter and the smells of tea and toast.
I know you devour me while I sleep
the same way I consume you while you bathe,
soaking up every fold and freckle,
memorizing every precious contour.
Waking, your pale skin burning away
shadows of the past,
my strong hands rest on
your waiting hips.
The boys and dogs come tumbling into our morning oasis with bony little elbows and bad breath and laughter like heavens manna.
This is my now.
You are my forever.
We are eternal.

Hard heat, swollen lips
Bound ******* blooming in the dark
Where is my sugar?

It's 3 am again
and I am here
and you are there
and I am alone in my bed
so I can't whisper
"G'night sugar"
in your ears
or tickle you to sleep
or wake up to your legs
or your heat
or your sleepy eyes.

*Breathe deep and feel me now

You will not be meeting me
at the train station,
wearing nothing but a sundress and
the warm scents of
wet desire rising as
a lustful fog
from your steaming forest,
anytime soon.

The heat would **** the sun.

I will not be showing up
on your doorstep,
rigid and pulsing
with the blood of
centuries coursing through
my thick roots,
in the nearest future.

The pressure would crush the moon.

Instead,
I swim in your teacup
and warm baths
while you roam in
the smoke at the edge
of my shadow.

I feel your soft whispers
across the ocean of time
as they float on broken
spiderwebs of memory.

Our love is in the words
between the worlds;
resting in the
wet soil of
an afternoon nap,
we bloom as one.

As the fire of night
descends, destroying
the boundaries of time
and space,
we transcend all that
is cold and unforgiving,
leaving behind only
echos of wanting.

If my eyes should betray,
pluck them from their holes.
and if my hands deny you,
cut them from my arms.
and when my feet turn away
from us
smash me at the knees
for I would rather be
blind and lame
than not be yours,
in your garden of grey blooms.

the stubborn silence of mountains.

You are earthen. I am fluid.

As my soft May rain
kisses the willow's leaves
before falling into your warm soil,
the sweet breath of spring
and new beginnings soothes our tired, wintry pains.

The water feeds the root.

My head upon your chest,
a cloud filled lake on a patient mountain.

Memories of our moments,
rocks on a riverbed,
worn smooth and beautiful by time and silt.

Your lava burns a path,
a fertile home
where future fields of wheat will see no tears,
before finally,
with a fiery sigh,
you come to rest in the salt of my ocean.

The ancient root drinks the timeless water.

The mountains nap. The oceans breathe.

A moment,
a look,
a hand on a leg becomes
a small stone of your love
skipped once,
twice,
threefourfive times
before settling to the bottom
among a thousand other memories
polished smooth.

The willow branches caress the shore.
The lake rests in the mountains embrace.
Rain and roots, earthworms.

At last, at last.

**** man, how are you
going to get out of
this one?
I guess you are going to have to tell the truth.
But some people do not want the truth
some cannot give the truth to certain loved ones,
others believe that the truth is what must be spoken in every word.
But its like walking back down the mouth of the cave,
to the prisoners still shackled, watching shadows, and trying to explain the sun and the trees.

I would have better luck
trying to

**** this wall

than trying to get you to
understand something
which seems so obvious
to
anyone,
everyone,
but you.

Maybe we are wrong,
maybe you are an enlightened one, come to save our poor wretched souls.
But that seems highly unlikely dear, for you are far too selfish,
and shallow,
and oblivious to reason and accountability.

A line has been crossed,
that which has been done cannot be undone.
But are you so ******* arrogant
that you think you
are not worthy of forgiveness?
Do you think
your crime is
so bad you are beyond redemption?

You think you have leverage, but your fulcrum is weak and I am persistent and voracious.

The ruiner,
your precious
little nickname for me,
carries more significance
than the
destruction
of your

sweet honeycunt, darling.

You never should have given me that stupid ******* painting.

I have known what a vile creature you are since the moment I laid eyes on it and I have carried that knowledge with me.
You forget how intuitive and analytical I am. You forget how well I read your every glance and subtle body gesture. You forgot how much smarter I am than you.

Your inconsistencies make sense now,
now that I have accepted you as a liar.
Your patterns are predictable,
which makes your *******
so much
easier
to tolerate.

My sweet little liar.
I love you the most, baby.