Stay away from the blue-eyed boy down the road because God knows blue-eyed boys are trouble. He's poured ice in his chest and painted his thin lips red to convince you they still have life.

Instead, find the boy with dark eyes and coltish legs and feed him flowers blooming from cacti and honey warmed over the stove and watch his features soften under your touch.

And let yours soften too.

I am clean and empty
I took my fathers advice
Slowed it to a crawl and
Now I hear the song hidden among silence

Cicada
Teach me the song
For *** and darkness
I whistle all along the notes
Rhythmic sweet and somber
Tones envelope

If I could once
Just once dream
Of hands so delicate caressing
The chords of sinew dance once more
As eyes so graceful lull me onward
Into darkness
Unafraid

So now I lie again among
The brambles gazing o the stars
A crescent moon caught so
Who am I to dare this fate?
What eternal price must I pay
To gaze upon such beauty

Getting up from the crumpled bed,
resurrected from the dead, once more,
he looks the world in the face, panicked,
he is back in to being from the land of  nothingness,
he was hardly aware of the non existence,
in the land of sleep, mysterious camouflage,
for war time secrets to be kept safe.

He doesn't have to pretend, to be a child again,
morning sows hopes, in vivid colours, he grows up
evening dissolves in loss, bleak darkness, finis.

What he gets in between becomes meaningless,
unless at least a smile gives wings
to the sad heart, to rejoice defying angst,
that swings between, life after life, day after day.

Her love, for long a thorn
now an ornament of pain
on her numb heart, pierced,
that has suffered in vein.

lovelorn and desolate,
she collects words in hope,
even from still night air,
but that work against often;
a vocabulary
of intense desire
she discerns at once,
from the scent
of jasmine
blooming at midnight
disturbing her peace
wave after wave.

Mate call of
a night bird
late for its date,
hurriedly searching
the rendezvous
and its sweetheart,
makes her sad.

Sky full of stars'winks
stringed together
as a song,
suggest daring things
she wouldn't think
attempting even much later.

She would send sighs
dry her tears rolling down,
and just suffer in silence,
till the sky open its eye,
when tired she will close her eyes.

We woke up entangled-
just bare limbs
wearing suggestive grins.

Gaily I shall go
Into the snare
Laugh with me
And fear not a
Thing. (Because)
Your muscles
Play a music
To my skin
In your arms
A glance by!
Wind disruption
Casts the dog of me
Into the sea
I'll rush if you
Would lip
Quiver. Run hind
Legged shaking tense
Little thing you
Bobbing bulb willow
Wind blossoming
Song
what then would I be
If thou were the moon
And I the sea

Rigid, with tears trickling down my spinal column
and escaping any other way they could,
crushed up chrysanthemums in my hands,
without moving a muscle, running away
any other way that I could.

One meaningful conversation
with my father in my whole life,
it was after I drank half a bottle of gin
one night in Cincinnati.

He raised me the best he could.

Once, in a dream, I ordered a ****** mary
and now I wonder if that means anything.

If it means anything good.