Nothing matters because this is all too transient
Facebook smiling photos granola girls with  hair flying up
Faces red from drinking and being pressed by their boyfriends surprise birthday parties Oh
The boy you once loved happily smiling from campsites You knew he was different when he told you
I like computers not *****, dueling not drinks
Sense not sexuality
And yet he’s there, grinning without you, happy until you are finally Ashamed
Of what did not happen between you
Ashamed
Because his friends surely know of your shame, his numerous friends who are not your own because of some Accident of your narrow birth
That did not bless you with his indifference, his casual, easy way of holding on to people
Ashamed
Because you’re staring at a world that doesn’t really exist
And you know, you just know, that you still care what It thinks.

I will find you when you come to me
Like in tales of men on white horses
Hidden in chain mail, wrapped in my ghosts
I lounge by secret still pools, brushing green grass with my hands
Feeling sensuous in my own skin
Feeling drafts lift my hair as I wrap myself over my knees
I will find you when you find me
Like in movies with lonely people
Hidden behind microwaved dinners, drowned in glasses of wine
I stir coffee cups languidly, tracing the round rims with my fingers
Feeling ground bean slickness on my skin
Feeling the apartment empty around me.

There's a lonely French horn on my heart
The curl of its handle is our story
Hours by the door, slumped like in the flickering Xanax commercials on the screen I haven't sunk into
For days
I can't let myself ask the one question
Instead, I wait for the knock that will bring you to me
As if just that one rap will fill your arms with the roses I imagine
There is something profound in the sunlight that streams into this room
I thought I spoke to you yesterday
We laughed; the deep corners of your eyes crinkled like they always do
And you accepted my kisses as I showered them on you, gently and eagerly
There was our quiet joy as we realized the picture we made, holding hands on my bedspread
As if we were two people really in love.

How I love this golden light
Full and rich with purple tastes
Blossoms growing, blossoms blooming
In this mind of eye of mine
Locked away in this old attic
With dust mites dancing on the air
I can hold those purple blossoms
Softly, falling in my hair

Where I was blind, you touched me and I saw
That my Body is an intercity Map site and I see my bright night-lights
Red lights of a thousand backlights glowing like a wash of neon blood down the streets of my veins
I am Dark and I am Lovely
My safe havens are illuminated for the tired of Life, the hopeless of Living
Huddled in my corners are parts of my Soul I let no one else see
Each one is a little lost girl whose outstretched hand you take, whose small
Clammy fingers you clasp as you lead Her
Like a guiding moth to the buzzing brightness of the streetlamps.