Helicopter blades chop through arid air
sirens fill space off in the distance.
Somewhere, someone still believes
the promise of prosperity
the American dream
but not much really lives in Lost Angeles
**** roaches and coyotes.

Police spotlights eye-ing up dilapidated
housing developments like a ***** show.
Cops driving slow on streets
that form lines like dope trails
like they're looking for crack
on skid row
or *****
on Hollywood Boulevard
or someone to talk to
on the last train to Union Station.

Helicopter blades chop through arid air
sirens fill space off in the distance.

have you noticed

how silent and calm the earth becomes just as the sun sets beyond the horizon

have you noticed

how even when a storm approaches in the morning, birds still fill the air with their lullabies

have you noticed

how low the fog lays as if ready to befriend and swallow up anything in its path

have you noticed  

how everything keeps living
despite all the changes that occur
everyday

have you

I don't desire a fairytale story,
I desire pure love.
A love that makes you want to dance all night.
A love that makes you want to explore and venture.
I desire a love that comes so effortlessly,
and leaves
only to arrive back with more.
I desire a love that is so authentic.
I could wait patiently however long it may take,
for it to reach my doorstep.
And acceptingly, I would invite it in.



i.v.

I cannot find
my peace of mind,
the weight of which crushes me
and I know not where I am again.

Like being so far away from home,
the smell of clothes
takes me back to the
last time I was in them.

I trace these thoughts
as I trace the curve of your spine-
immaculate ridges like the ride of
the cobblestones on your porch.

I find my solace
in the perfect arches of your shoulders
like the hold of the hearth
that keeps me warm.

I stow my secrets
into the unbreakable weave of your ribs,
safe and sound into the vault
of your tireless heart.

And dreams I dream
to the lullaby
of your ebb and flow
heartbeat.