the boar tide's tusks
are rustling the leaves
wetting their own depth perception
& thrusting through
the stony home
where water's never meant to go,
rushing to extend its reach
****** the supposed beach
& BUSTING belly-first beyond these gravel streets.

so we find new ways to walk
new walkways made of taller rocks,
& softer steps in soggy socks,
because oftentimes the tidal clock is off:
a salmon holocaust with just
a solemn, hollow cough
as the waves are burped & swallowed
& lost among the blue disease...

your heart pumps kerosene
to your matchstick veins,
& maybe i imagined things,
but i remember your eyes as ember rings
& i can't wipe my memory clean
of the dingy debris--
the delicacies of your legs & knees--
this fire's not extinguishing!!
those ashes you disguise as eyelids
won't keep me from the iris
i know i'll find inside them

& i'll skim past your skin grafts
to your smoke-smothered stomach
then plummet to your flame-engraved pancreas
((scarred from swallowed promises)).
these propane x-rays
can't scan the barcodes
on the charcoals
that the holes in your heart hold

craters created constantly
((dents in my design))
comets crash into my confidence
until my ego has evaporated
((eventually...))
in an awful orbit
worshiping an orphan star
ignorant of my existance
but i'm greedy for her gravity...
grasping for her geography,
but she's already forgotten me

so i see now you're with someone else,
& finally now i'm free:
you left no excess residue
as you exit me.

i expected to express regrets
as your final vapors left my vents
but now your vacancy sustains me:
i have aptitude in lacking you
& your absence accents my best attributes
because i'm no longer attached to you.

& each step weighs a little less
sans you stealing half my breath,
& when i'm bathing in her flesh
she'll find comfort in my cleanliness,
& she can finally drown inside my depth
as i love her like there's nothing left.

craSH land ing in your
hand or
somet..h...i.n..g...
somepalm or plane
your fingers figured
EVERYTHING was
in theirange

"
i NEED the  cement
to   stack   the bric
ks  more  even  [][]
"          
        -she said

like self-construction
is in her-interests:
like she SPOftenKE
of scaf fold & ropes
& renov(icaine)ation????
instead of
numbness, running, & vacations
OHHHHHHHH THE GREAT PATRON SAINT
of r u   n a    w   a    y    s
is suddenly b-come-ing brave!!

my dreams seem so realistic
or my waking life is so surreal
i can never tell the difference
so i treat them both as hopeless jokes.
if the sky falls suddenly
& i get buried underneath
i know soon ill either be
AWAKENING or going back to sleep...
it keeps me calm when the bursting bombs
come crashing in so rapidly:
i'm laughing & know exactly how to handle things
        because its a bland repeat of last night's dream.
& each time my eyelids clasp collapsed,
i just call it practicing

i loved making you laugh
your clouded eyes like a thousand skies
sewn together, seamlessly
& im floating through them, aimlessly
lost inside them, namelessly
my anonymous exploration
of your pupils' dilation
i wonder how wide eye can make them...
playing with the petty words
your eyelid's optic prisoner