sometimes you must be your own fighter,
your own believer.

wings beat fast a song
in the undertones of wind,
be mine forever?

fingers shake, skin tears
higher up the mountainside:
the climber's vision

the crow is dead and its eyes were open
and it had fallen off a branch, maybe
and it could have been sleeping,
body slumped in the dewy boulevard grass this morning,
but its eyes were open
and crows don't sleep that way.

I was surprised because death hides in all places,
except a ******.

it will not end here.

you, the one with violets in her lap,
the one, despite her mortality, that only gods may approach,
look at me

no truth was found in the fragments of sappho,
but what lies in all those lost to another time?

the booth we all covet
is open and i sit in it alone
taking up all this space
so that i can try not to fall asleep
as i read and listen to music
and procrastinate on my laptop
and look at my phone
and feel the absences and the losses
of nameless entities
i am romanticizing the drone learning has become

do it,
the duet
the one where you turn and I grin and you stop and I spin
and the music never stops and becomes white noise and then one with silence
and when we still the clocks stop but the music never slows

spring is eternal,
slow coming after three seasons of waiting.

I ponder on these summer months,
of endless hours with thousands of people passing through,
but all I remember is your smile,
and our overlapping knees.

holy light
on my skin
cool air
patience thin

asylum walls
brick and stone
windowless,
so alone

do you forgive me

in the spring,
apples never fall
and in the fall,
blossoms never bloom

apples taste so sweet
like knowledge dripping from teeth
the forbidden fruit

all the current needs is flow

who cares about the past,
since now is now.
Have cool adventures and surround yourself with good people,
and be kind and authentic and sassy,
and you'll be just fine.

fragile hands shaking;
I have sharpened the sword's blade.
You stand as my ghost

hover behind me

darling,

I don't know when the next night beside the water,
sleeping quietly,
waking up to white, waveless mornings
will be

a safe distance
from the passive shore
will keep me from
wanting more

ages fade into centuries, yet somehow it is written:
someone will remember us, I say,
even in another time...

Autumn pulls at dusks
yet August will not relent
until September

when evenings begin to hold that hallowed smell inside,
yet summer holds

blue days follow through
and I remember the taste
- sweet - of loving you

je ne parle pas le français
mais vous,
vous êtes couramment

j'essaye
cependant,
vous n'avez rien répondu
et je crois que le silence est ma réponse

the unrooted soul
who knows only wind as home
and land as its cage

gold and yellow yolk leaks
as the shells, brown fragments of armour
tumble into the clear lake

so it must be morning
though the sun sets as we confess resurfacing memories
that break in front of us
like eggs at breakfast

somehow the week is gone
as the church bells ring
and the water moves on

as the birds all sing
to another dawn

of how things used to be,
I want to say
come back

so constant is the lapping shore of change

july
so sweet and shy
passive yet
pass swiftly by

july
a long goodbye
and every year
you make me cry

july
don't even try
cause when you're done
the end is nigh

july
if only I
could hold the tune
of your name
sigh

pelicans remind the forest
of life beyond the wood

darling girl
be optimistic in your ventures

because how you see the world
becomes your reality

beneath the door
a yellow line

what's happening
on the other side

hours gone
spent talking alone

wishing you
could go back home

a knock, a sigh,
a hushed goodbye

I'll be here till
the end is nigh

I'll be the bedrock of your home

the ocean batters
reckless waves and constant storms
but the rock is still

too many things
to miss

and in the dusk
where all days end
will we find ourselves in the hues
of gold into darkness

-

in the dawn,
we were brought
from summer into fall
cleansed into being

and now it is spring into summer
and we close this moment
with a song
a celebration
a sunset

soft and tender and sweet
the love we remember
from her

but from him
it is steady and long
and true

like the star
blinking home
always

embraces and we feel more distant
as the night ends
and the curtains close

I must have known
the cold face of the sun