What is it the wind whispers on your cheek my finger tips long to hear
What effulgent echoes of sunrise render each tear
What facsimile of midnight your finger tips whisper back
What ancient childhood secrets parade behind each eyelash.

Oh, how my fate lifts by the curve of your hips
How condemned I am hell-bent by the swerve of your lips

Such language infinitely dancing loosely upon your palms
Such remedies recited by your resting tongue
Your mandible sacred where my universe began
Oceans devoured between us by our patience

Beneath the skin / Behind the canvas

      A fragile greeting found
            This fragile tempest

            Promised and unarmed
            Unwrapped infinity
            and sharing air

Anaphelbete for sharpness
      Anorexic for fitting
            Amnesia breaking

Mining Space
      An unnerving echo in prayers

            Please,
            and now,
            and why

There is a smile buried in the curtains
That is why our violence forgives

            The lacuna is free
            linen running unabated

Heavy comedy and rubber tires sail away

A stained glass sunrise
A signature war waiting under tickets


Neon spins everywhere

      The taste of finger-nails
      The bite of fingered-lips
Gone Again Left picking clouds

      Beneath the roots
      Above the rooftops

      Dancing concrete with me
electronics off-beat eating the world shaking

Some where still to call us home
evacuating pain behind familiar windows
I whisper you a fire escape
a static ocean at your door

Unleash the arrow from your bow
I'm hanging by a string you know

The anger's bent you nearly in two
Your rationality has lost it's due

Cast me not across the sky
It will only leave you asking why

Put me back into your quiver
Where we can again be birds of a feather

I'm looking for a hailstorm to run blindfolded through
For the sake of refief
A psychosomatic firing squad to save me
from this six by three square feet of dirt
that you have left me
I now drag behind myself

I have taken this earth
and sculpted it in your likeness
I am Pygmalion praying to the moon for love
but instead I get rain
and as the picture of Her and perfect summers
falls apart like mud through my finger
I clasp and grasp and gasp
and when the rain stops
I am left on my knees in the mud praying with open hands
my skin is baptized so clean my scars shine

Now as the pieces of a heart are returned to us
twisted and unwanted and rearranged like a Rubix cube
by the hands of past lovers
who we knew too fast and promised so much
but didn't care enough
to figure out our combinations
or to hold the secrets contained or the dreams cradled
in this human-sized box
I guess no one thought to tell them
that if you plan to be a past lover
return what you have found just as you have found it
and walk backwards
that the image of you walking away from me may not haunt me in the mornings
and I can make believe you are returning to me at night

but even the stars rearrange themselves
destiny can be rewritten
let what remains of my days be it's pages
in an infinite number of realities I am still happy with you
in an infinite number of realities I am tragic without you
but in this reality I may be happy without you

I'm kicking open my wardrobe and cleaning it out of all the shadows
I'm putting on a new jacket, a new hat
but I'm keeping my old shoes
for I will not forsake the path
all the roads that once only led to you now lead from you
thank you for the detour

I'm looking for new hands to run through forests with
new arms in which to build a home in
a girl to jump on bed sheets with
and a shoe box in an attic to bury you in

For this heart will grow and one day I will see
through an unbroken stained-glass window
you were just another piece of me

There is a snowflake
on your eyelash
that I long to be

Take me with you
when you leave

Show the world to me