I cannot get rid of
the things people
have said anymore

I do not know
how to forgive
them, though

I'm too caught up in
piano notes, a crescendo
that pulls my spirit out
I was told what he says
gives life to the logos
so I'm inclined to seek
the water and dive

somewhere in my dreams
last night I swam in a lake
that glittered as a hundred
thistle prisms, I ran through
schools of fish, hallways that
whistled, stairwells that were
no feat at all, everyone was
somehow impressed by me
I held faces between palms
and kissed so many people.

Please consider
my wishes no
one else does

Indian brave, treetop advantage
apple juice lips, palm to palm on
the swings as we breathe in bold
letters and speak in a five point
font, quietly because we're older
the kids should not know about
the lemon tea ways of age and
wisdom, so we muffle our voices
in damp scarves and admire the
way we used to be

There's a narrow speckled gate
here, that bakes in the afternoon,
sunlight streaks nakedly through
crimps in the iron, fortified metal
lips, curled like payot. Air thick
with lime, daisy, daisy, daisy
sometimes I stand under the
arch, reaching back and forth
between worlds.

I have not been happy in a while
and I cry a lot, but I will not tell
anyone because I do not want the
reputation for being a cry baby.

I am afraid to tell
people that I have
no friends, because
I am afraid to lose
them too.

I sometimes wave
little flags in their
faces and tell them
that I am still

here

Do you always
see the moon
as a whole?

Through the twigs and savory green,
dry yellow sun bits. A wet vanilla perfume
lingering in sweat droplets, staining
that white tank-top too busy being
baked in, dead grass fastened to your
thighs a bit like tassels. I am sometimes
positive that you grew from the thirsty
dirt like a

cactus

Maybe if I were a
hummingbird. Wine-throated
in Guatemala, would that be
far enough away, or is it such
a romantic notion to want to
to be fast enough to escape but
beautiful enough to be noticed

You were a mandarin experience
jets of white ribbon, the things you
said were quarters, flat and chucked
sometimes you reached all the way
into me with your ideas, with your
with your, with your, with your



did you even ask?

Do you remember the splinters
from the tanbark, your whole
body burned

When we were kids
they taught the raspberry things
dyed lips blue and rubbed honey
on before kisses, everything was
stale sugar, your breath warm
lemonade and red ochre arms
chilled in the goldenrod shadow

Once, I told him that I was not hysterical and he could call me
he answered what's up kid as if his voice had dropped, but it
hadn't. I replied submissively and he told me that it would not
work even though I did not truly want it to in the first place. It
was so silent on the other end I could hear his car running. Here
to stop on the hill to talk, the cul-de-sac with no cars where I once
sat between his legs and did unspeakable things on the porch of
someone's summer house. He wasn't sorry even though he said
it twice, I made sure to count. I could probably account for all his
apologies on one hand, the entirety of our two year relationship
was one. They say you lose them the way you gain them, so I
must have fought too hard both ways coming. He said goodbye
twice and meant it, where my mom found me curled up on the
swing by our old house. Drenched in sweat, it must of been 80
outside, I smelled like paint, we were redoing my room. Summer

is so hard now, Maroon 5 on a Chelan boat. The memories are messy.
What was that, three years ago, now? I am still startled by your name
in my phone, by the notes I still find in boxes. I've kissed a few since you
anyway, but I still remember the way your neck felt.

Does the night air
ever make you cry?

For all the times
I have never had
someone to dance
with me, I remember
kody ruzanski who
nervously tapped my
shoulder in 6th grade
and i still told him no

the eyes are probably the truest--
but even my dad said that people
may see colors differently

You spoke to a part of
me that needed a talking
to and even though college
stole your better half, I will
remember that even words
spoken with conviction will
not always be true

you taught me that.

but I'm not all here
my words are like dry wheat,
snapping
in the middle of a sentence, there are
parts of me that are lost and cannot
speak for themselves so the things I
say often break

there was this dream
where the sidewalk stretched away
from me and brought all the people with it
the street lamps, too

will you show
me that there
are good ways
to end such
years?

My hair was once all aquarelle
and peony, I wondered who

painted me

she planted secrets once
potted them with fresh
soil and watched them
grow, they were never

weeds

do you ever
feel like maybe
you need to shake
out your skin like a rug

It was interesting
the way my sore muscles gave
I don't often enjoy the things
people do for me or try to do
for that matter
despite having always been
willing to do those things for
them, I realized that there are
times when maybe I should
let someone rub my back
without worrying that they'll
feel my scars.

A friend once told me about
the rules
The Proper Dating Etiquette
what to and what not to say

I mean, stephanie, it was right there
I told him I want kids someday
Mentioned that I wanted to get married
Not in that order

I always figured that the right
person wouldn't be                         scared off
by those things
wouldn't be frightened
by the truth

I guess

will i steam like
naked earth beneath
the tepid rain
raw?

I'm fond of those light touches
when someone knows how to
turn my cheek into their palm
in the maraschino hue, I like
that, I like that

I like that

Have you ever been
overwhelmed by such a
feeling of nostalgia, blanked
the color blue and a song, a smell, the
light from the windows from so long ago
when you were young and the clothes you wore
were tight, stretchy and entirely juvenile but
the easiness,
minimalistic heart
what were you worried about then?


what was I worried about then?

I dream of
romances
with every
face I see

there is nothing wrong
with never having been
loved in that way

I never meant to get so sad
over trivial things, but why
do things never go alright

for me

Effortless between 6 and 7--
lavender and magenta,
moves a bit like grass
sounds like orange juice
in the morning, the sun
says a lot of things about

you