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i'm tired
of keeping everything
inside

Do we ride the rolling crest of towering waves
Or do we save ourselves the tears?
I say: Give me a sturdy raft
And I will ride.
Give me an anchor
For the windstill days
In between.

do you like the way
your emptiness feels

fingertips
tracing
fragile glass jars
empty
on the windowsill

your eyes look at me
from them
empty
like the echo
of what you thought
empty like my heart

the question
hangs between us
and i nod my head
yes
before i can shake it
no

You look at me
With eyes melting
The colour of dry grass
Golden
Pale
In the winter

Questions
Form
Evaporate like mist
From your lips

I see them moving
In hope
And sorrow
Coinciding with your soul
But I can’t
Say anything

Black sand morning sky~
   Scorpion strikes from the south
   Orion hides now

r ~ 13Mar14

fall in love when
the want to write about me becomes a need

realize you're in love when
thinking about me after the rain becomes habit

say you're in love when
my touch becomes your very lifeline

creeping fingers,
crawling hands,
innocent at first--
innocent? not likely--
malicious more like.
the purity of your
polystyrene soul,
the unremitting cleanse,
the repent(the chase),
it's your lifeline. the
shocked look, saccharine power
held over tiny fawn--
****** clarity as they might,
oh dear incubus.
the power to end all
held in tiny fists.
this births not demon babes,
but a century of fear
and inadequacy.
downy kittens hardwired with
an inevitable self-destruct.
bring the world to it's knees,
incessant, indefatigable pathogen,
taking grasp of neurons, synapses.
good intentions yearned for the green light
while yours-- red as the blood rose
manifests in lovely lips
for eternity stained with **** wine--
the wine you brewed, you fermented
in the cellar of ******* and hatred.
the father, the son, and the holy spirit,
and the things that lie between.
blessed fingers, blessed breath
freezes as the stiff arms of your diocese.
hushed catholic whisper, angels to never
nearly achieve their wholly holy grail--
your kryptonite. secret looks, hasty deliverance,
catharsis.

If I had a rose for every time you've broken my heart and driven me insane

I would build you a bed of roses
                   and a pillowcase of leaves

And every night as the flowers began to wither and lose its luster

I would build you a new one
                 a bed as timeless and delicate as you

Again, my love, you've managed to break my heart