I found a
Wide eyed
Smiling
weeping heart
Treading
With rough toes grazing soft sand
But never quite
Grounding

We pull over when we feel the wheels shake and limbs breaking.

We search shelter when the bell clings and clinging
I want your treading heart to echo mine
Like whales
And realize that maybe it was never the shore that they needed
but a soul to swim beside
To share a secret language in the sea
Where the only worry is the trash we have kept in our stomachs.

But what made the snake grow fins?
The bible or the need?

The bark:
It found me walking your street at night
Worried to find my way home
Along a crooked patch of tall grass fogging
10 claws behind a white picket fence
Melting slowly through memory
charged with broken tradition
and heated "what ifs"
As if sooner or later it knew that if it held loud enough
The boundaries would topple
and the marvel of a delicious body
Devoured
Could settle the accounts of dispute
As two cups clink together
In a cloud of insecurities
And lapping tongues.

It's so easy to hold either white or black when I wake to find you sleeping.
It's the feather fear
Like standing bliss at Cliffside
Like a battle heavy purpose.
I don't want to find myself screaming in the dark water, watching your creases ripple in the light.

A pain of horses red
I've only smoked half of it
I carry a candle upwards
Flicker and deposit
The moon, the speech, the judgement
Instead of what I should have said.

like a clasp
Like a secret locket
That i only wear when dreaming.
The syllables never make it seem right to make them sound

I'm afraid the mountains aren't high enough to echo my devotion, because they ground their voices out.

A pain of horses red
I've only smoked half of it
I carry a candle upwards
Flicker and deposit
The moon, the speech, the judgement
Instead of what I should have said.

like a clasp
Like a secret locket
That i only wear when dreaming.
The syllables never make it seem right to make them sound

I'm afraid the mountains aren't high enough to echo my devotion, because they ground their voices out.

She, a song in the doorway we used to know.
I left the right phrases out.

I miss a "goodbye" that hasn't happened yet.

I stare through the glass of two doorways, still on the outside,  I'll pass through soon, I just hope the air inside doesn't **** our plants; The ones I watered with the rain from your hillside.

I feel the sky start taking me under again.

I remember, in this corner, what I'll forget tomorrow.

"Okay," I'll sing soon, "I'm ready to go."

Lightheaded
I always thought I was alone
but it was we.
I left a mess out there
That they masked with perfume and hazel
Where they ran stiff with doubt and I don't go there anymore.

Cracked hands mark the
aching
I ran through you without sense.

You came up on me like a bomb
And shelled I did become
Because my soul meets yours somewhere above us
And wishes to be popped

Your body is a hillside and I have been collecting rain. It's a perfect time to be sentimental.

Body
Closes closer every
Single
Touch

I know
Secrets
Deeper

Once I trusted them
They say I'm intuitive
They say that I just pick these things up

****.

Beautiful in that way
Like a flower you forgot to press
the searching in words for some deep secret

The pit
Well it's mine too I know it

And these things keep popping up to pollinate

But I don't have what it takes to say I'll be sentimental
And I don't have a way to say anything without that true from the source

It's sad in that beautiful way
Take flowers and give them

Sometimes I wonder if your eyes
Just glimpse at these floating
portals of affection
Only to get closer
to that dream
And further
Still
From
Yes

I am nothing past anxious
I run as far and as fast as I can
Away

It is remarkable
the way you can memorize a daydream
while you sit on a cinder block
in a gravel ocean.
And trust me
I've done the reading a hundred times
or more.
nothing comes close.

Hmm
The quiet density of a heavy ceiling.
I can't tell if caving
or breathing
Or maybe I'm exaggerating
my
phone exchange.

****
Somehow still I just
reallllllly
really
Want to cover up. Deep. Somehow.

My eyes are so full.
I feel sorry for the burn victims that got too close,
But then again, you can drop a cigarette and
BOOM
Outta ******* no where
your french toast
But cover me in honey, honey
And I swear not to flinch
Because these burn have let the skin expose my soul

And my soul doesn't speak in adjectives
but it climbs
And climbs
And climbs
And I don't know what I'm ******* looking for
but somehow I believe everything you've said.

Aloe
Alum


We are the same.
There's nothing else to it.

Why must we go to and fro assuming constraint?
I've fallen through a nothing-air.
In a quite fog on that empty afternoon,
when the dusk aches for a little leave, I turn, revolving in our nothing-nothing-air.

As that twig snaps, I can sense only then that I am moving.

More.
more.
more more moremoremore

When that devil kisses your cheek, and you feel loved for once,
                 i
                 am
                  Singing myself lullubies



lullabies out of all the words you said.

I block off my impulse like a covered ***.
I eat up my cravings like an emaciated fool.
I doubt all of my speech because the sound itself will only leave dust in my valleys.

I elevate the symptoms to a common rot.
I lash all of my feeling into a darkened pool.
I dart my attention to mundane lines of charisma that only lead me to potholes and drunken alleys.

The most beautiful lines are the ones I forgot.
But I can say that I long to unravel you.

And the chances.
I know I never had to play a part
In an addition of a circumstance to gently set us apart:
A desperate attempt to keep the fruit at the start
When all we really do is crave "finale".

Etching my movements in time as a sculpture would to stone.
One wrong scratch on the experience and the whole plan falls.
I try to memorize all of your countries and how they fit in and line up and how some of them surface only during times of dispute or sadness.

Many people dream this dream.
Many people hide.

I glanced in your direction through a screen like a steamed window, buffed for clarity, squinting for connection.

And no one has to know.
There's nothing to fear.

The music in your voice isn't the same as the tapping on my bed
Thinly resurrecting in course of the night.

I want to believe in the tug.
I want to believe that the struggle is somehow pulling me closer.
But more often I just want to hide.

I wanted to find solace in your moon
To taste the stars in your bloodstream.

The rhythm starts to slip abrupt
I stare at the floor and chug
Always right angles.
"I don't think I'm one of you,
                                                             one of yours"

She's searching for something to move her again.
She's searching for a way to bridge the gap.
To stare a bit closer.
To be seen.

I look around, and the smiling happy nodding faces have such big holes. Black. Their bodies energetic, but their eyes are gone. Flatlined.
I lean in close and block out
                              someone new,
                              they didn't say she looked beautiful tonight.

My heart is ******* bloated and I don't like it.

My chest opens and serves a swell of insects, the beautiful and dizzy kind.
The kind that fly in sync and tuning,
craving fire.
I walked for miles and miles, with a veil of wings and buzz and clustered intensity of my swarming
When my insects, they caught that spark
in the distance and rushed.
I see their trail and I follow.
The light you have surrenders my soul.
There's nothing I can do.

Over the distance and hilltops and historic buildings
I can see it glisten.
As the door exhales and my life of the day shuts
I whisper to a distant faith
Hoping that yours is out there
                                                      waking,
And not sending a last flight of experience
Through a window I've left open
                                                     and silent.

We are floating, primitive and desperate.
Frantic to revolve.
Our arms cannot open as we adjust our sights.
How wonderful it must be to depend on you.

And then I think, "There's nothing here that's mine."
It is not in me to save.
Ebbing always at the edge of safety:
My star, it never reached for me.

And my mind, a cast of iron, loses balance on the last flight of stairs.

I felt my tide inhale and hold.
God, how they love to make the skies above you.

I stood there in awe of illusion of the staring sky,
witness of the two correct in flight.

Its biological.

Oh, the caricature of bliss, "I dance in light out of tune!"

Emerald shining beam to darkened corner.
*you are the only thing I use to keep from night

Clawing at opposition
We, the binary.

I want to waste it on you.
on begging.

Don't tell them your/our/my weakness,
caroling with the generation,
"please don't take us out"

Need boiling/freezing up into some dark illness/BRIGHTEST BEAM OF

Where were you?





No one speaks of it.

I waded my body around on the floor and watched without looking as their drinks filled with hooks and started tugging on the back of their throats forcing them to act on impulse and act on
despair.

I waded my body around in these ideas that felt inside like a 1950's cinema stabbing with the rain and the dramatic silence and screams where all you get is the negative space you never get any
impact.

I waded my body around this flood I was making for myself out of what they were spitting on the ground and on the walls and on themselves and I bubbled mimicked screams so we could
share something.

I waded my body around my dreams and one by one as if these droplets were trying to tell me something they all fell through and I found them soaking my shoes and my knees and my
meaning.

Treading perpetual.

I was never one to run toward
a shining soul off in the distance.

I felt.

Ceiling heavy creeping; my eyes followed the white.

I am not singular.
I am not singular.

The necessity of nature left me dreamy and hopeless. You were my

My amor phora.
                         And now I feel as if I have no soul worth clinging.