Love to me has come to be
a garden party
Where passing the sugar
is philanthropy
Where summer has come
and gone
again
again
Men passing like plucky clouds
on those days of sun to be spent
Flatter yourself dear. Surely you are more than
This.

fresh white sails
clean air of possibility
f r e e
undoubtedly as

I cast another anchor
into the vastness of blue
tethered by that which I
cling to.
There is joy in the ebb, the shore
but the choosing
is what kills the air;
stifles my sails

I can hear the ocean beneath my feet
I can see the distant horizon

They say “set you sights”
But what if I’ve lost
the looking glass?

sometimes I fear being with people
is too much
I haven’t slept my temples
Pinched
eyes weary-hallowed
is there a place where I can converse
with all the demons that walk my earth?

I am ill but mostly
sick of me.

I have given all that I love
to apparitions
i claim to care for. Sometimes I fear
they see my wil-o-wisp glow
and grow hungry for me

lost ones
come now and borrow
my hope, my vitality
It’s okay you see...
i restlessly dream
for seeping sleep deep

I am ill but mostly
sick of me.

The storm drops they are
clawing, clawing
at the walls
I feel the shadows lengthening
exhale of evening

If you were a hungry dog
abandoned at my doorstep
would I still?

“let
me
in.”

Your beauty may birth from shaved legs
red clown lips, gaudy eyeshadow
flimsy black crumbles beneath
your eyelid
You are ****-sun-kissed;
I am opaque.
Blotches of color
Lighten my smile

cheekbones never as sharp
as your words