I kissed your eyelids awake
              willed them open
                           to see the warm brown
               coffee mugs behind.
I want to drink from you and
                                                   keep drinking,
             and inhale every ring of smoke
                         that rises from your lips
because the universe inside you
is beautiful,
             crystalline
             with biased clarity.
I wish you would be
                               part of me,
                                            cannibal galaxy

Madness of misunderstandings
clarity in crystal moonlight,
            the way a cloud invades a perfect sky,
                           but only adds depth
                           to the act of perception;
not altogether altering,
                  but offering
another point of view.
Instead of being blinded
              by my own insignificant insights,
I am bathed in the sunlight
              that peeks through the windows
              of other people's worlds
and through words
              I can only attempt to make sense of what it means,
until the ultimate realization
that it means nothing,
but instead of terror
this brings me comfort.
                   *I have become the sun.

I can only remember your eyes
            looked like moons
bathing me in
                        bluish clarity
peeking below trees;
They brushed your face
like eyelashes.

I wish Mother
                        Nature
had given me a more
                                     Celestial
body, that I could show my love
in grander gestures.

Disappearing woman,
I imagine the breeze is your lips
                 unfreezing glass-water
Bringing canvassed flower -field
                 alive with just a touch.

Disappearing woman,
I looked for you on mountaintops
and beneath
            rust colored leaves
                                       that
                                        fall.

I need a guy
that swoons
when I play the piano.

He needs to love the way my long fingers
reach for octaves, ninths and tenths.

He must grin when
I nail my tricky sixteenth note runs
and
he must support me
when I perform ill-preparedly.

The hallways seem strangely silent
a wistful sense of emptiness fills every room
rammed full to the brim
with nothing but previous occurrences
and quiet, clean air.

Curtains grow duller with every second,
the falling sun creeps carefully
behind grass and trees, beds and walls.
A “climate control” unit hums
met only by murmuring voices next door.

I irritate a light switch, flicking it
on, off, on, off, on… off.
There is nothing of interest in this room.

I turn inward, sticking my thumbs
into my ears and hands over my eyes.
At long last, serenity.