floating lights 
and dark skies
sit on the phantom
heir as chair

a soft touch
a ripple 
in the deep
blue sea

paper chairs 
and crosses
float 
beneath 
the skies
as sheet

(the eye wake
gaze
at merry old
stars;
the ***** wonder )

we are weak
when we 
are poor
and meek
when we 
admit the tongue
did defeat

an old pair
of glasses
as glory

we all
 wither
                  all mouths
meet winter
i hope
to 
see
wall
grow flowers

before 
a machine
gives
birth.

There's a house where the world
has stopped dialing...
But a rotary phone, that
has my number.
and plunders my unavailable
daily.

We blink like opening a mystery.
But we never  brush the canvas
of any inspiration.
we gather in the fields of our golden jokes
and each the other are about
how nothing is the same that now
we see what eyes deny
jellyfish
and cotton
swabs.

but there's trees and eggs.
it's nothing how we remember
love and hate.
slow things are voices to recall.
but the matter of their wisdom
is bleach and peaches.
and perhaps a flightless
squab.

II

to endure is to be a living thing.
and to love is to die more
willingly.

but nothing procures the reality
like a dream.... and we cluster
precisely where we diffuse
Unkindly.

III

Let us walk where the treasures march
in impoverished enmity. but know
the different things that sanity
conspires to reveal.
we can be madcap and foreign
to our native selves -
but never once be alien
to what it means
in hell.

IV

heaven is a kind of grace that forgets you.
and trees and eggs
are something else
entirely

despite you.

i must not be what I'm into.
i go where the wrong things
know you.
i dream till it hurts
but that's always.
and i'm always the one dead
that says things.
don't be where you are
as much as nowhere.
don't live your defeat
as much as live there.
don't know who
you are
if you're
not
and cancel reservations
if you're gone. gone
gone.

Where you are
I am
Where its far
Distant, I need your best friendship.
I'm heavy on your demand,
There by your side
As your bride
Who
Will do
All.

the bees are eating the sun
but something clings to the shoe.
not the usual something,
but the black iron fruit.
seems the long way 'round the sunshine
is straight thru.
i chum the waters of my desiccation to bribe sharks
as i clench my teeth on the grit.
you... well you are somewhere
being awesome
as i shrink to fit.

And I'm so dark, so dark. Dark.
Dark like heaven must be.
And they don't ask why I feel this way anymore.
They just say my name like it is a razor on their tongue.

And he didn't do this to me- I would never give him that power.
But he made me quiet.
Staring out into the rain pouring over the rooftops of this
godforsaken city of unforgivable sin.
And oh. Oh. I know of the sin.

Quiet. Quiet.
And he rages. Ah.
I am the dark and he is the red.
The blood.
The clench of broken knuckles, ruby.
Ruby. Say it slow. Feel it. Do you?
It should ache.

And the quiet. That should feel tense.
Walking on eggshells- so quick to break.

A quiet that snaps and shatters into his rage.
His quiver. His break.
His molten anger.

They say beauty comes out of destruction.
"They" have never known pain.

He is too loud, too loud, too much.
Then too quiet. Not enough.
I.. Am not enough for him.
And when I touch, he pulls away.
I hide my face.
Brick by brick, I shut myself off from him.
I'm almost completely unreachable.

He says: leave me alone.
He says: I don't want to know.
He says: what now.
He says and says and says but it's never what I need to hear.

I say: nevermind.
I do not say: *******.

We are in the car.
He swerves,
says: I should run into a pole now.
A tree. That red car. **** that *****.
I want to die. Do you want to die today?

He screams.
He rages.
He turns the wheel, hard. Hard.
He lets go.
Hands clenched and rabid and
teeth and gleam and eyes so black, so black.
I've never looked at them before.
I wish I didn't look at them.

I am quiet. I am dark. So dark.

He says: sorry.
He says: this is when you say "it's okay".

I do not say: it is okay.
I say: *******.

not so much the sun... but the moon today,
how it fetches the glint
from a fire of doom
but slips the lie to the truth
in truly black
rooms.

the barge of my waste
is time spent with you.
and no other
thing kills
as sweet.

in the valley of the hollow
i begin my lurch.
I tumble through the awe
without my skin, and it hurts.
i blunder through the stars
of our astronomy... no doubt.
but i would have you
as my nothing
to have

something.

too have nothing
about.

120715 #4:30PM

Just a thought,
To where everything’s ******,
Eyes in leer – flameless –
You are Beauty.

Open eyes, open skies
Open realm, open lies.
White as snow, I was
You’re the apple in spells.
As I lived, I have died too.

With rustic munitions,
You gashed my heart out.
With your circles in hoax,
You murdered me.

A sunless morning,
A moonless night,
An air so humid,
An unsalted oceans.
For in time so impeccable,
Befuddling in misdemeanors,
You’re the Beauty who’s a Beast.

Just in time,
**Forgiveness is an erudite.

His lips were on mine
And my body wanted to fold
Wanted to give in
To everything

I wanted to hate it
But instantly
I found myself loving it

I hardly noticed the way
His beard brushed against my skin

I was so lost in the want

I almost forgot to be scared
Of something so wonderful.