a plethora of sleepless nights*

soft hand on my belly i hear this whisper

the thawing of thoughts the panic of rebellion

it is. 34 degrees outside but i can feel everything from frostbite to softflames. warm inside my belly soft hand on it. making circles with a sweaty palm.

i leave my window open and imagine retreat. the capacity of running to whichever corner of this town i wish. springs in steps filled with stormy ferocity. where my heart will no longer be so acquainted with my stomach.

//////STORM// i am free. fiercely loved. i am the wind knocking on your windows. shattering your dreams. dancing in your eyes. phantom touches up your spine.

i wished to be nothing but tender. my heart soft glitter mud in hands squeezing through cracks Pulling Pleading  Pushing up the stream to stay put stay put stay.     put.      

left intact the swirls spat into the wall with plastic tacks. a sickened love.

i meld with you like waves and salt
together thrashing onto briny cold beaches
wind whipping against our reddening cheeks sweetened minds
i long to taste the sweat on your neck
i wear you on my skin
honey eyes honey ash honey slow in my bones i move slow i will move slower

i am not so sure as i seem i am not so sure slow----- s l o w d o w n

globes of gold blur past my peripheral.
you are in this landscape
panning across my eyelids like projections.
i am the canvas. uninhabited.

we are stupid. children. gods of the innocent. lost the keys//owners of our fates.
broken heads emptied hearts poured into lovers who weren’t enough.
shame on us for wanting more than they could give.
shame on them for needing more than we could fathom— than they could express.

oh, dollop moon!
sweet soft tender
pulling you up and up
little fluff of a thing
pulling me down under—
a swift plunge.

i am the moon they call me moon i am the moon a fallen star will burn through me and i will shine through the night lighting your path until dawn i am the moon always lit always lit always on

Ты слышишь что я говорю?
как громко мне придется кричать?
ты спрашиваешь что я хочу, и я не отвечаю.
потому что я знаю, в глубине души, что Ты знаешь уже.

----
translation:

Do you hear what I am saying?
How loudly do I have to shout?
You ask me what I want, and I do not answer.
Because I know, deep down, you know already.

relax your jaw
he talks about easing in (taking control)
as far as i am concerned there is no one in this cafe this street but you and i
lips tongues moving in tandem
hands reaching over pressing down on hips leaving their own conversations

my brain is a slow clap
thunder easy bold slaps
for when you feel nothing
for when you feel it all

say please this begging

sexts to self:

-stroke me-
the ******* of your words
the day you realized this felt good
the different things that could make you feel it
the night you realized this could fix food
you said you would rather feel that pain in bed
the courage to slouch on your chair and not be worried of what was there

and when i say i love my thighs the most he looks at the scars.
does he know i love them because they’ve got the most?

last week she reclaimed vietnamese food.
this is a process and every now and then
she checks in with me.

haven’t talked to him in a while.
saw him on the treadmill yesterday--
i was happy he was not.

i miss him.
(says she misses him)

says she finally reclaimed her own bed.
says he is no longer the smell in her pillows the first thought in her head.
further from her mind each morning
new lovers have ways of stalling mourning
or maybe he has already been put away.

continuation finds new ways of forming.

lay out my bones for the ready

to be slowly devoured

piece

by

piece

foaming at the mouth, saliva

dripping

onto maroon carpets


how do i keep from being forgotten

if i am a river

then i want all my curves to reach you
lap at your sides
gentle awakening in the midst of mist

if i am a river

then he is a tree
strong and wielding
empty with the insects that have devoured—
tiny memento-filled mites digging little holes
within
his
demeanor.

i got stuck on the idea that forever with you meant
hearing your body calling
my person.

and i have never thought of arson
but i’ve got a mind to set you aflame.

i told my crystals your name.

a final memorial to the tired heart.
the weary, out-of-breath soul.
a final memorial to the love that is real but needs to be put to rest.
resting underneath floral sheets is the sweetness of you.
the image that is left, at least.
nestled under the cold blanket of winter impending is the grandeur of our erasure.
and every time i get ready to incinerate the loving bones of what we were, you remind me of timelines and ties and i regret letting go.
when i am ready to tuck you away on a shelf in my closet, you blow the dust off empty promises and i pick you up again.
the toy that is played with another day.
and for once, you are not the toy in the situation, but instead, the greedy grasp of a spoiled child with too many choices for play.
and too often, i find i am the last to be picked.

is there a predetermined time for the both of us/ are we fawning over minutia/ are we flaming over small kindling/ i know this is ugly i am fully aware but ugly is a ****** up trope and i play into the best and worst of it/ ****** up ugly femme with a hold around your messy boxers//my messy heart

tight grasps ====
tight grasps ======
tight grasps ====

<> hold on to this belief <>

if you find yourself lonely in your bed, this is me letting you know that my bed is yours too.
2. if you miss the sound of my voice, the feel of my hair, the warmth of my skin, please, oh please, come to my door, give me a call, send me a letter, proclaim your love and proclaim it again!
3. if he wanders (and he will wander), let him. trust that he will come back.
4. if (as always) you become overwhelmed by the intensity of your love for him, let him know. he will laugh and pretend to know and brush it off— understand that he listens to every word and needs to hear each exaltation of adoration. even if he doesn’t seem to care. trust that he does.
5.  if he wakes up and needs to run to be alone, let him go— he’ll come back. trust that he will come back.
6. if he doesn’t contact you for a while after he has upset you, don’t get upset— he just gets scared when he’s hurting you and doesn’t know how to fix it. be patient with him— he’s told you to be.
7. be patient, be patient, be patient. be patient.

we had a lot to talk about we had a lot to touch about but i could not let you near me
there was a softness in your eyes there was a tenderness that brought out every ounce of moisture in my bones yes i mean there and here too

and when you tell me of grand plans i believe them
and when you take me back to that time i am already there
rhyming and writing and reiterating lullabies once video taped for you as gifts
i ask simple questions to keep my heart in check i feel each pump      pump      pump
you make it pump pump pump pump pump faster pump when you talk of connections and histories and weather in small feely towns that i have slowly attempted to archive

you say: we have been together for forever
you say: i never want us to not love each other
say never want us to be without another
never felt this love with someone other
love sick drawn red crayon waxy imagery
i drip drip like a faucet starts then running
from leaks to waterfalls
i talked about the pools you created but never the oceans
but ******* you create OCEANS
and when i lick my lips i can still taste your emotions
so i walk around tracing circles with my tongue making sure your sweat is not gone
making sure your taste is not gone
and you said you never want to break up again
and i begin to contemplate words like never and forever and again again again

i keep you here, mr. love sick.
feeling each feverish pump you create.

you have to put me back now.
there are always better things to come. she taught me that.

honey i want to lick you clean. from stem to seed. roots and all. meaty juicy mess darling i want you in such sick. wicked ways. torturously sordid. crumbly needs.
babe. dreamer. lover. love freak. freaky love affair…
you just can’t make it ! don’t you try !
getting these silly ideas into the brain space you know you never had. chaotic.

blooming inside me are worlds unbeknownst to you. and when i asked you to ask me questions about my trip. my past. my worlds. you lied down and smoked a cigarette.
as if it were a chore. as if loving me was a chore. caring for my lovesick body.
if i knew how to make a tincture of your scents i promise you i’d never see you again.
woke up toiled and troubled in the sweaty scent of you. your *** still staining my lips. my cheeks. my chin. we had a feast.
and went to bed fevered. desiring. crawling in the sweetness of you.
cradled by the idea of you. our next meeting.

i am somewhat apprehensively coming to you with open hands and a heavy heart. you see, there have been all kinds of adventures hidden in the soles of my feet.
but mostly in the tips of my fingers. ***** under my fingernails. worn wanderers.
passed far far into crevices of non reality.

it is pouring. it is washing away my troubles. it is clearing my head of rubble.
brigades of lovesoldiers. revolutionaries of hearts and stars.
congregants of the sky goddesses of love freaks. sweetly sordid little creatures.

the tendency is to ignore the problem until it becomes more manageable///
how has that been going so far for you, sweet darling?
do you feel the relief you so hoped for? or are your lungs (these doors) being kicked in. leaving you exposed and unready. unkempt and unruly.
switchblade princess. magnifique. petite princesse qui veut avoir toutes choses.
mais moi, je ne sais pas qui je suis, ou je dois aller et comment je peut boire l’eau de l’amour sans devenir alcoolique.

look at me look find relive the stories you wrote on my body.
remember those?
all i know how to do is compare and relive. repeat repeat.
but yet again i find myself in some corner of your toes. at your feet.
neutrality is poison they say. but my body produces enough for herds. nonchalance.
cursed and wasted potential of energies. caught up in the messy web that is him.
HIM HIM HIM HIM HIM HIM R E..pE?***.IO N…
i want to always know you. i want this moment to li n g er__—*
i want him to linger.
cravings to know the this and that of me. the who and what.
and alas, i have found the road i am taking. filled with webs of glitter and gems.
and dirt. and my dear, i am quite messy. quite bruised and swollen from these adventures. these not-so-merry instances. battered into sludge.
this morning i trudged out of bed, stumbled into the bathroom, succumbed to the floor and met the carpet with a heady thud.
floundered apart at the seams. sewn and stitched and ******.
senselessly. he took ice. he suggested it ! he slipped it into his mouth.
drilled onto my belly. cold icy muddled puddle. wet on my skin.
looked me straight in the eye. pushed the tiny cube inside me. watched me tremble.
****** me like he hadn’t in weeks. selfish with his seduction.

when i think of him. i think of the pools he creates.

there’s just something about smeared lipstick. the lust of it. the desire. the carnal attraction of the red my red you bite i bleed. a cycle. lions. carnal mouthwatering beasts. smeared red across my lips across my cheeks into my hair. messy primal smear drag. drag. the drag of it the drag of gender dragged across soft parts. ruining their innocence. marking up significance on soft peachy skin clawed. cruelty is so carefully tangled in with this putrid sense of morality. mortality. carefully putting on something that will be smeared off later. ripped off soon. taking the extra fifteen minutes to meticulously apply the liner. doll up a cupid’s bow. exaggeration. dragging lipstick across chapped lips being pulled towards completion. all sweetly organized to be ravaged.

if you look at these eyes i hope you see happy
because that is what i want you to see it is what i am when you look
when you look into my eyes
i hope you do not sense the despair and the fleeing i hope you feel my heart i hope you feel it deep in your soul and in your teeth

i hope i have taken up an adequate space in your brain
i can only imagine how many things are filling it as i write.

my dearest sweets,
you are a ******* **** and if we were in spain in the 18th century, i’d stab you through the heart with a knife carved with flowers and put a red rose on your rotting corpse.

sweet boy,
i want you in the wildest ways. your core. find out how you tick. what makes you tock, dear?
honey. lovely rough faggy doll,
i am all out of ideas here. holding on to sinewy threads and nerves.
i am all out of ideas and i will keep riding along this path until i find my way again.

Crisp crunches of thoughts leaves inside my mouth
Gum stuck to my shoe
You stuck on my mind but
I want you there tight holding
I hiked you up to my hips buttoned you there comfortable and still
Skirts falling and shirts riding up
Underwear that I won’t call ******* because they’re not cute enough
And you
Nestled in a metal button marking patterns into the skin red red bone *****

i could smear luscious roses on his *****
drool a raw achey mess as he watches
(worship his sordid *****
licking my face so sweet
a frantic hell of goddesses
and)- He
Enormous Storm
revealing
spray me sucker !!!!/!

pick me up
trigger me
allowance of water droplets coming from the axis
at its worst i didn’t want anyone touching me
****** me ironic
manifesting itself in my body
pick me up i really just want
over this
my past
i let him and he did
holding me panicked
held me with my arms around his neck and my legs in his arms like a little monkey kid
i was beautiful and he loved me
recovery steps

i am beginning to feel the spring in my fingers
i wake up and they do little dances in my hair
grab and pull me out of bed
***** on my silly little head
pull up my lips into a smile

i feel renewal in my teeth with each crunch chew taste of greens
someone told me about zucchinis and platonic queer lovers
and i could only think of your onion hair slowly peeled by my hands
and your tomato red cheeks blushing harder as i speak
to you in memories with frightened big eyes

and oh

would you be mine?

hot thicket bugs crawling water wells of my eyes
yellow shining Yellow heat rising from soft sweaty skin
i wanted to be a piece of candy on your tongue
sweet spit gathering at the corners of lips
drooling in anticipation at honeyed hips soft sugary treats
i wanted to be the cigarette in your mouth
sinewy stick stuck on the outer fragment of your mind//lips
slowly inviting itself into darker deeper districts of your anatomy
liquor is quicker than licorice

little chicken. chickadee. flown. flying. grabbed between the talons of an alternate state of consciousness.

taken. observed.

not a piece. not my own.

her little chicken. kuritza. maya charoshaya kuritza. koshka.

soft safety scratches. reminders of a care(free)less childhood.

i feel i feel i fell
a stern believing
in you in you in you
for me to be

Something something something
i just have to battle
will you will you will you
fall off

they sit. every muscle in a state of relaxed inertia.
ready. for what. who. when.
when to pounce. or simply watch.
people pleaser. introvert.
if i sit i sit will they come.
long. young. small framed. dressed like an angel in heat.

they sit. balanced on padded paws. watches.
magnetic eyes. cookie eyes. chapped lips.
i wonder if he makes them come.
do you call this a sign?
why is everyone asking me that
savoring last drops of the sunset.
kiss my nose. cheeks sweet like agave nectar. peach fuzz with a trigger warning.
you animal, you.
traveler to farmlands and fields. sunflower sun child.
they say they’re the sun. calls me a moon doll.
and when you cry, do you light up the sky?
do the stars cry with you?
are they just as enamored as i?
spellbound limericks of funnysillysad love.
does the gold spill out your eyelids?
staining already sun kissed skin and velvet cloth.

sits. jumps. relaxed natural ***** fingernails hands caught in curls of my hair. what a wondrous mess.
you animal, you.

the glorification of the city
as if in its midst we can find some hidden truth through the smoggy abyss of lost humans
that we. you. lonely tired bags under your money maker eyes broken in this way and that. and i. crumpled arms insecure cryer
//let me keep this to myself.

kiss him like lipstick.
bright smears. disappearing inconveniences.
seen and seen again and then gone.
i should hang up now
i’m not ready
i’m not either
then don’t but i have to i have to there is no choice please don’t stop saying i love you i love you

in my sleep, i imagine your touch. and you are not who you are. and i am someone else altogether.

Holds me. ******* shakes me. Stop stop no more. Come back. It’s okay. You are okay. You are with me. Holds me to his chest.
Do you hear that? My heart. My love. Do you hear it’s steady beating? You, my sweet, will be fine. His words. Echoing. Swimming through every stream I am. My blood.
My love, my blood is filled with your name. And in my tears, you are. Languid and wet. Streaming down.
You are everywhere, my love.

the last time seen
and the repercussions of actions untold
shirts reworn for the scent they hold
when you held me
both arms dangling at my sides
completely trusting distanced from it
the last time seen
and the last time touched
he saw me with bows in my hair
sea foam eyes and languid lies
indulgent

tell me again that i get everything i want.

who are you who am i
adults. we’d like to believe.
young children simple soft a little scarred a little morbid a little worn down

every time she calls me she cries

sweet, tender, lover boy: do not be upset over the mountains other people must climb. you have found your valley.

she is comforting herself can’t you see that.
the way she lies on his chest listens to his heart beat slower slower after fast.
i simply speak what is on my mind why do you love me because because starry moon child you are made up of all the things i cannot grasp.
the way he bends she bends loud bubbling *** noisier and higher pitched keep it down shhh don’t wake the neighbors.
the way she gasps he gasps look what you did
is that from last time or this time
last and the other one from now
let me see the marks that were made no wonder she never stayed.

red. as the lips you have touched. the remedies on my tongue. the stains on my toweled thighs. the handprints on my ***. the hearts above my head.

his head will lie between her thighs. his hands will find their way back to gripping hips. leaving the marks. her back will remember its familiar curve.

why do you love me?
i wasn’t expecting that question.

hit me like a bullet. never saw him coming. worshipped the ground you walked on. heavy deeper smears and color. painted walls paint me painted walk in see feel.
hit me like a ******* train.
bolder builder built me with your hands build me something to hold on the train home.

when can i see you again

needed you you didn’t
hush quiet keep to yourself
reveal little parts and stay hidden
it’s already been written
it’s already been said

tiresome. catch up and stuff.
the dilly dallying before the meaty bits. the juice bits you think about when i’m gone.

figure out on your own. which way is up and which down.
which call to take and which to pretend i’m taking a nap for.
did you watch this? i cried. indulgent.

when there is no best to put on.
when all i am is curled up, shriveled, incoherent ‘i need you’s but indignant ‘*******’s—
empty eyes and droopy cheeks—

who wants to be there when it is harder than **** **** grab.
heart homes and mountain tops.

make plans with your cigarette instead.

taking time for your crimes
and duty to a citizen that mattered to you
i don’t want to write you anymore letters
he can **** my ****, stupid boy
granted, points were made
i won’t say it you dumb ****
i’m here in my house my sacred palace and
he disturbs disrupts dead bolted to the front door
what is a dead bolt
i ****** my professor in the middle of the night
quick call on call praised and given As

do you know how you make me feel

mood change. swing. poke. pin. press. push. pain. growing tall for me. such a good boy. struggle for control//gives up quick. he knows i know what he wants. gets him off. quick slaps. hush hush right to business. on the floor. his knees. kisses up my thighs. beggar no pride left it at the door. -mine-. for the night. the hour. this minute.

his ******* queen.
the princess is still sleeping.