Fragility can hardly explain you.
Breaking apart in my eyesight
Locking eyes then peeling away like rot fruit
You speak so fast.
I can barely tell whether you speak at all or flurry your words out like poker cards
Dealing me fours and sixes
I can't make aces out of the air you breathe
Yet I knit poetry out of your lingering fingertips.

It lies, turgid.
Beneath the seedy mass of microscopy
lit fluorescent, breathing.
Bloated cellulose bricks in syrup
Conjunctive in an extracellular mess,
Ripped mesh and tiny sculpturettes
Freshly bleeding.
Chloroplastic green and iron red
slivers of nucleic endoscopy
A secret glimpse framed by my eyelashes.

One morning, I met and ate with Sappho, and
as we watched the baited ducklets come and go
described to her a calming Violet i had found
within where seeded crops of crocuses grow
who strapped the sunlight as its belle bijou
and subtle symmetry that provided words
to break the heart and warm the blush skin of you
I told her of broken morning birds
simple songs robbed by her brushed deviled tips
I cried of endless pages cast in ink
to describe her perfect purple lips
of desperate letters to help me understand how her love thinks
All other stem of Violetta fail to me
to remind of the shadow cast over flowers then
or to undermine those bright pink cheeks i could see
in its petal hues - usual rhythm couldn't convey to pen
this wild moss of a creature that heavn's sink....
a smile, and she replied
"a picked and pressed flower
for a Violet of my own", said the Girl.

duckling
in return for pity i offer you these
meagre meals:
my heart, substantial not to breathe from my chest but the offer will suffice.
bitten down nails -
stained confectionery colors, a brittle bone penance
stuffed thick cartilage
watery canthus
pure blood and guts that once held me upright.
I can only pray you'll forgive that I know
these choice cuts are not enough.

The storms have set in fast this year
The wet skies a little sticky to the ear
Chalk fizzing in the water but it doesn't affect us in town
and again the leaves have skipped amber to brown;
the ships dock faster every September that rolls around
and the captain keeps telling us he's found less, and less-
by now we've all been wearing the same stuff for years
- Bar sodden coats and lipstick smears
but the word with my friends is since that summer on the shore
We've never come this far inland before.
It's the last term now and the older years that are closest
tell us that the new kids catch on faster, they've noticed
but that's something we're not supposed to discuss
soaking up heavy sunlight like a dusty curtain letting its motes spin
And in the backrooms - new fashion is emerging
and again we're handling with faux grandiose -
the kids at the bottom of the class need this stuff most.
we're not likely to forget.
and that moment when the girl in the pink stood and told us
she wasn't convinced she needed us anymore
and lunch was silent.

All the men at school act like they care
But cold chairs and icy fingers forced their hand
and god knows I'm not quiet anymore -
but I don't think i'll miss the school gore.

I see you in colors no one else can see
As if the light had split and lay you down for me -
painfully so -
arrogantly pursuing a spectrum so elaborate...
golden and gleaming...
God, do i try to keep up:
I see you as the red green blue black that resides under our protective layer of peach
Crimson cheeks and crimson thoughts
Ivy trailing hair of such unexplainality
mundanity fails to carry your weight -
But green seemed so innocently subtle to contain those veins
that stick out like a spill against ivory eyelids
sheltering yet more purple, bronze, a bouquet of vessels -- -
oh, god-ridden terracotta of your tips
red just doesn't cut it for me and blue leaves a sticky trail in the tongue when you're just so
unashamedly golden, apricotted, sparks of whatever next that i find in your eyes
colours i couldn't mix
no matter how hard i tried.