Love. Like the shadows upon the
Pavement
Waiting for the moon to take it all
Away
Where has it all gone?!
Nearly two years without
Kisses,*****,hand holding
Just an empty bed and
No tears
Tears were love
And stabbing yourself drunk on the bathroom floor
Was love
And the time she hacked at her cold White skin when I was going to leave.
Confusion is love
And waking up together on Sundays
Making coffee,cooking eggs,
While laughing in the kitchen
Was love too.
I remember looking into the mirror
One morning
I said "Jesus! What am I going to do when you finally leave me?"
And she said "ugh! I don't know!"
And I laughed hard
And she stared out the window
And I'm still trying to
Figure that out...

She sat across from me diagonally
The husky latina wearing clothes too
Tight
"Now you see here, 0=0 therefore the
Answer is undefined."
I couldn't focus on infinities
She sat staring with her head on folded arms
I couldn't stop watching her legs
They opened and closed slowly in a
Sensual rhythm
"Once you find X you can plug it into the original equation to find Y"
Why?
Her rhythm sped up and I watched
Her push her pelvis down into the
Hard blue metal desk chair
She was really working for it
Was anybody else seeing this?
The sun came in from the window
And laid on top of her
It's shine fell just outside of my reach
I could stretch my arms and touch it
If I wanted to
She stopped the smashing of her
Upper thighs
And began to rub herself back and forth into the uncomfortable chair
"And can anybody tell me WHY we are dividing both sides by 12X?"
I couldn't. I couldn't focus on parallels or horizons
She was going for infinity
She worked it harder and faster
Infinite. Infinite.INFINITE
she began to slow down
Stopped grinding and started the
Thigh smashing again
Slow.
Then she stopped and looked around the room
I looked away
She stood up and placed her purse
In front of her crotch
"The solution is somewhere between
Negative infinity and positive
Infinity."

It happened while listening to a song
An old song i used to hear when
She was around
It happened while somewhere far
Away
The purple blossoms began to die and fall from the tree
And somewhere further she lied next
To another man
Feeling that same howling loneliness
She felt with me
That old song put me right back into
That dim room
Lying next to her
Feeling full
Full of love fear joy and
That underlying loneliness
I am always running  from
I listened to the song and began to
Tear up
I haven't cried in two years
I haven't cried because I haven't
Loved since then
I tried to shake it off and
Focus on the boxing match I was
Watching
But that ******* song kept
******* me back into that dim room
We used to lay around lifeless,jobless,
Starving
Eating a box of Bisquick and each other's souls all day and night
I thought I was missing her
But no, it wasn't that
It was never really love
We were just two wounded spiders
Trying to devour one another
I missed feeling full.
I missed the days without this
Immense burning
I missed the days without death die
Destroy
I missed living *******
The song ended
The  tears never fell
But I came pretty ****** close
Then I felt that ugly humongous
Mountain
Crawl off my chest
I felt the drowning rats climb out of my gut
I walked outside
And watched the purple blossoms
Die from the tree
And the air tasted sweet
And my body felt light
The war is over. The war is over.
My god. I hope my war is over.

Patience is a virtue
but how can I be patient when all I want is you?

silence so loud
but not awkward at all.
it's kind of enjoyable to sit there
next to your grave
just like i was once sitting next to you
in your hospital room.

at least i know you're at peace.

Hair burned into beautiful submission
Face acrylically defined and chemically composed
Adornments meticulously chosen
Scent tested and approved
Smile practiced and performed
I am a porcelain doll
Sipping tea, at 6 am in the quiet of a sleepy-city apartment
Porcelain doll dainty wrists
Washing dishes, feeding cats
Folding linens, singing hymnals
Praying for peace and safety
Porcelain doll knitting sweaters
And folding paper cranes
Reading poems, setting tables
Wearing cardigans and pearls
Porcelain doll decorating cupcakes
Lighting scented candles
Watering potted plants and humming childhood lullabies
With my porcelain painted lipstick mouth


But lipstick can be dark
Eyes lined black as city alley ways
There is anger at injustice
The world outside the confines of a pastel doll house
It’s messy
It’s hard
It’s iron and concrete and coal
And I am too
Biking through the brick metropolis
Sunglasses and headphones
And anarchist literature
Evenings spent sprinting through the smog
Heartbeats synchronized to the crude drumming of the city
So hard to impress
I’m on the metro
Eyebrows structured and defined
And adorned with a calculated air of apathy
See me social justice march
Down highways with fervently entitled youths
See me armed against misogyny
Until my peers learn to better conceal it
See me smoking cigarillos
Drinking black coffee
Breathing the tainted air of the city that birthed me
And chanting manifestoes.

But my manifesto can be love
And love can conquer anger and fear
And hatred
Love can reconcile, it can erase timidity
And it can abolish resentment
Let it wash my face and take the need for vengeance from my spirit
Let it replace the thirst for power with thirst for truth.
I burn incense
And wear long skirts
Naked face and braless lazy days
Reading pacifism in the park
I walk far to find pure air to breathe
I sit and deconstruct my dichotomy
Under a wise and ancient tree
I trace myself backwards and forwards
I meditate on the paths I have traveled
I cry for the things I have seen
And for the things I have done
I contemplate transcendence
I drink wine and listen to folk music
On the terrace of my home
I bike barefoot to buy Indian takeout
And eat it in silence on the floor of an empty room

I think only of death
And resurrection
Of betrayal and redemption
Of opposites and compliments
And how to progress in knowing how divergent pieces of myself can learn to harmonize
I think about minimalism and materialism
Sentimentalism
And swords and pens
And how this race I run was rigged from the start
I think about blackberries
And the complexity of their literary and symbolic significance
I think about the number seven as I see it reoccurring in every possible sequence and equation
I think about God,
And TS Eliot
And If I dare disturb the universe
I think about porcelain dolls and ****** activists and ***** hippies
I think about war and peace and politics
About corruption and poverty and imperialism
About western ideals and conspiracy theories
And communism
I think about being radical,
And how both sides of this ideological war are defined by fear
And I think about love, as radical but defined by the absence of fear
The absolution of fear
And how I am fairly certain it is the answer
I think about the inevitability of art and war
how they create each other
how they destroy each other
inspire each other and annihilate each other
and how there is nothing that is innocent.
I think about pain and privilege
And stacked decks of cards
I think about dreams and nightmares
And prophesy.
I think about the darkness within me
Tendencies to lie and manipulate and steal
The darkness that I know could make me very great
But alone in the ashes of the world
I think of the curse of wealth and power
And I try to evaluate my motives
And the driving force of my ambition
But I don’t know.
I think about grace and all the things I don’t understand
And toil and fate and destiny
The shape of these things, their origins and culminations
And what this black box of secrets contains.
I think about so many things,
Until everything I was on the outside is gone.
My body is gone
My painted face and sculpted hair
My varnished nails and pierced ears
All my clothes and appendages and freckles are gone
My blood evaporated
My brain an invisible energy in the wind.
My home and street
And city
Are gone.
And even in such complete concentration
When it is only my essence and nothing else
And I transcend throughout my past and future
When I am spread thin
And stretched into the corners
When I fill the cracks and crevices
And melt into the pores of everything
And my spirit is awaked to a dimensionless reality
Even then,
Scio Nihil

I know nothing. .