I am a full cup
balancing on the shelf
constantly testing my surface tension

just waiting for a little jiggle
to break the slack.

and When It Happens
this camel is gonna start running.
and she ain't never looking back.

45 minutes to go and-
their kisses are
ours.
I can't look I
know,
but my eyes follow
and seek like hot stones.


I feel their stories-
their
distances stretching-
the burden of
their own loves sinking into
my chest on top
of the open chasm
left by predawn at greyhound.

I hate every time
I have to
say it. I
crave the return
so so so so so...

Stop.


Dear Soul Anchor,
leave me in the Hall-

but be my port
cover my heart
with an oilcloth

so that somebody
else's farewells
will no longer
leak in.

This storm of
our own,
is Heavy Enough.

pull your head out of your own-

you're not perfect
you'll never-

So be Just Enough.

that's all. it's not
a competition.

because we all
eventually still

end up


behind the finish line.

I walked in, careless,
to my ankles.
It seemed all right.

the water licked smooth,
around my lower bones.
the tickle of cold
the bump of rocks
silty sand,
squishing up into
the spaces around my arch.
another step, and the pull.
the tease of the tide, lap-lapping
like a hungry feral kitten at found milk.
the snickering of the current
told little lies to my calves
about the depth and its strength
seducing and tugging.
Comecomecomecomecomecomecome
I looked upriver. Dark sunk
into the trees.
Crows sailing up, over the line of evergreens.
Solid.

I awoke suddenly from my murky forward-trance.
Halting my progression.
In over my knees.
Violently chilled.

Clarity dissolved upon my senses,
Remembering my native element,
I spoke my rejection to the  liquid Rake.

'This is not my place.
as long as I have breath.
and I will not lie with you upon your bed.
You have no thumbs, for coffee,
you have no heart for truth, although
secrets, of this, I am sure you hold, many.
No mouth for reading,
and trust-
I already have circling my finger,
and am tied in my heart, to one with eyes and lungs.
Some marry the sea, but I have married a Man.'

So I placed my heel behind my shoulder,
yanking hard against the rules of the moon,
up-tripping
backwards across sudden boulders.

Feeling the sick squirm of a game
almost lost,
a hallucination perhaps of-
the gurgle of a defeated laugh
chasing me back to the bank
I pushed away.

On the  shore, damp-dry grass of another month
lay beneath my feet

The River showed me shimmering calm.
nature just nature again-
a  vast. sleeping creature with no possible interest in Eve. but
From the droplets of water on my legs dripped a separate truth.

I turned away from the leaves and fish.
drying and donning shoes.
And went all the way back
a Flower still,
to The Land.

i was afraid of my wobbling knees.
it's funny how everything gets magnified when you're in front of a crowd. One minute it's
a-okay if you trip, poke yourself in the eye, stumble on your words,
because that's normal
and you can laugh it off,
because there weren't any consequences
but the next minute
the light is blinding you--
                                      you have no one's eyes to reassure you, because you can't make out their faces--
and you're alone,
squirming under the microscope,
caught in the worst trap
if only because it's not customary to cry for help once you're there.

And your job is to reveal yourself, flaws and all,
red face and all
sweaty palms and all
through a melody,
your voice and every single one of your
indescribable, raging, nonsensical fears
(what if I throw up all over the front row? Or what if I knock the stand over, inflicting that poor man with a ****** nose in the process, and THEN throw up all over him??)
the only things slicing the silence.

Maybe I'm being
Overly zealous
But sometimes
When you kiss
Me in the street
We're cheered on
Faces of disbelief
For our sudden
Battle of tongues
Been told it's okay
Rock on
As though
This its normal
Sure some people
Wonder
What the ****
Or get a room
But we're always
Cheered by another
And maybe they know
How good we are together
Perhaps they see
That you and I
Aren't just young lovers
But eternal ones as well.

I know someone who finds solace in ballet shoes
                A boy who strums his secrets to guitar strings
Someone that spends his waking moments with glazed red eyes
             As if facing this world cold turkey
                       Isn’t even an option.

For boys whose fingertips shake
                Like the burning end of a cigarette
And girls whose smiles resemble
Car crashes waiting to happen
A cacophony of shattered noises
             And those of us who feel guilty for the
                     mere act
                           Inhaling air
                        And exhaling poison
So we spend lifetimes holding our breaths

   Until we burn our lungs out trying
            To warm our hearts
            With something other than the fire
           That burns out in a smoky haze

Until our eyes become rivers,
flowing oceans
That cry out a thousand melted glaciers

Our tongues speak ruined languages
We read everything backwards
Curse in Latin
Make oaths in Russian
So whatever we say sounds beautiful.

So that our hands wont have to learn permanence,
affection
consolation.