gentle water ripples
snow of falling flower petals
soft the landing of your lips
we merge like clouds in dream
become one, learn to breathe in sync

A ***** hybrid clouded his voice;
a southern drawl
and Midwestern daydream.
Mutt to himself, a fire to others,
a redundant reverie about a home
-- any home --
with pictures of bloodletting,
forgetting mothers, Adidas clad feet
belonging to hooded killers.

His hands sway in church
but his soul doesn't.
No belief in either concept:
God or soul.
Annoyed with the Christian claim
that one needs the other.
He speaks a voice that echoes,
then evolves into a rarity
too tame to flounder and fight,
too wild to sit and stare.

******* you pisces,
with your gaping emotional wounds
that rot slowly from the inside out
and your innate genuine self that makes
it impossible for you to pretend the
darkness of the world won't eat you alive
like the rest of us

**** your artistry and self expression,
the only thing you leave behind for
the rest of us to stare longingly at
and wish wistfully that there would be
one more poem, song, story, dance

most of all i **** on your sweetness,
the way you flowed through this world
filling one soul after the next and
never remembering that you can't
fill a cup once yours is empty

i wish i had known,
i would've filled you up

We never make eye contact anymore—
But your friends and I do—
Which is weird—I don't remember them being the ones—who stuck a finger in my—

I had a home
and I hid a
secret in the floor
boards. I would
like to say I was
bored but I know I
was only lonely and
tired of drinking. If
you can hide a
body in a closet—
you can hide a
memory under the
bed. I like to think
I did not mean for it
to be this way.
But now, his
skin has fallen and
he is a skeleton in
my closet and his mem-
ories have spawned a
monster under my bed.
I like to think I
did not mean for it
to be this way.
I am hoping my
husband never
taps on the walls.
They will
tap back.

my brain tricks me into thinking
that i'm the only woman
who's turned out jaded
after watching a man eat
chunks of my still beating heart

it's easy to place myself upon
this island, silent and sorry
while i sob under pine trees
and curse the planets for
making me endlessly desire love

i see you approach the shore,
the boat wasn't built with
your own hands, but you're
still a better man than all
of the ones that proceeded you

i speculate that you're here
to hunt weak and easy prey,
truth is that doubt and not loving
myself will be the only misfortunes
that bleed me dry

a joy seeps in. but not the joy you wanted.
you had no vision save the stains on your eye
from seeing  so much otherness.
it feels good. precisely where you felt nothing.
and night is an afternoon... for no reason.

what love does to an ugly heart
is well known, but not as real as the wish.
it surpasses the aspirations of a lonesome
and breathes where thin air is syrup
and a kiss.

it is a constant
in the void like a void.
where no hate can stay
and no gold can be
a fool.

rustic rain
brown-yellow hills
crows circle a carrion ****
I've come for resurrection to bleed against the sky
thirst of deserts longing, cool water washings
bones, abandoned skulls - sun bleached white
prayer offerings for an earthy altar
here where death is hallowed

I wish that I had written sooner

though I can still feel the warmth of
your smile, see the crows feet by
your eyes, and hear your deep laughter,
all of your tattoos have begun to blur

I remember seeing you and needing to
know you, or maybe it was that I
already did, the universe pulling
me back towards an old friend

you kept me alive with coffee and
grant slams and the reassurance
that I would never be alone in
questioning everything, and even
though you're gone, I'm not alone

I think of the moon and I see you,
I feel us smiling and swaying as
Kerouac took us back in time, to
a place where art was all that
lived and breathed, our bodies
just vessels for the unveiling

you will always remind me
that there is no such thing as
too late, that endings are beginnings
bursting with beauty and
that happiness comes with
full acceptance of self, and
above all else, love