“I don’t believe in love”
She says

As I speed through a yellow light
She presses her first ******* to her lips
Then touches the roof of my car with them
She shuts her eyes

I don’t ask her why
I just trust her intentions

In the same way I don’t believe in anything myself
Save for the passion that takes hold of others
When they believe

I like what that looks like

The word believe when broken down
First means to live
“Be” means to exist as
Or to live

And “Lieve” means love
And I think about the bravery it takes
To believe in anything
And the bravery it takes to love
And how that same bravery is made by love

How many stupid things have we done
Just by loving someone?

How many arguments are there against a belief
In anything?

I don’t believe in god
But I believe in you

When I watch you do things
Like superstitious knee **** reactions
To keep the light yellow a little longer

So on the ride home I do the same thing
As the sun bends it’s yellow into red over a horizon
That is kissing our sunburnt necks

Because I want this car ride to last a little longer

Even though we say nothing
And you don’t ask why for the last fifteen minutes
I’ve had my fingers pressed to the roof of my car
A satisfied smile pressing back my cheeks

You just trust that I feel this means something

So maybe you don’t believe in love
But you believe in something
And by doing so
You are partaking in love on some weird level
Subconsciously
Like breathing

But I want this car ride to last a little longer
So I say nothing
Let the wind **** the silence like white-noise
It’s as close to prayer
As either of us
Will ever get

If anybody feels like taking a break from poetry, here is a short story I finished last night. It's very short. Feedback would be much appreciated.

http://normanshine.wordpress.com/2012/06/23/a-good-man/

She is so good at burning down bridges
That I don’t know what to do with the singed rope
Hanging from my backbone

But thank goodness
She birthed a crash-lander
In the off chance she severs our last ties
Because if I pinch my vocal chords tight enough
They double as a rip-cord attached to a parachute
I got buried in my heart

This doesn’t feel so much like having the wind knocked out of me
As much as it does landing safely

It’s how she made me
Raised me to crash and live

I am broken bone-callous- heal
Knuckle-scar and broken tooth smile

And you made me

Like that one time
You let him make me
Place my hand on the car door frame
So he could smash my fingers in it

I don’t even remember what I did that day
So doing it again?
Probably I’ve done it

My hand used to hurt some nights like a memory

It takes long time to forget
How to phantom limb our trauma
Like we might learn from it

I am not perfect
Which is why they remain nameless
I have probably been guilty
Of doing the things I am accusing them of

Hurting people I love

But thank goodness
Nature is the kindest architect

And I am ready to rebuild

At first I felt so small
As the oceans in her eye sockets
Threatened to tidal wave

At first I wanted to be charming
Then I wanted to be funny
Anything to stop her from breaking her bay
and anything to keep me from drowning

Whatever man has been here before
and whatever man will be here again

Do not let him speak for you
*now

So often I feel like you are fruit
Placed gently on me, a sandpaper offering plate.
I do not want to hold you so roughly,
But there are things I am still learning

Placed gently on me, a sandpaper offering plate
My rough rubs you slowly,
But there are things I am still learning.
How we are unto diamonds.

My rough rubs you slowly,
Until we are evenly raw.
How we are unto diamonds;
I wish I was that soft.

Until we are evenly raw,
This feels like the devolution of beauty.
I wish I was that soft.
Something similar to dying fruit.

This feels like the devolution of beauty.
Soon you will no longer be sweet.
Something similar to dying fruit.
And I am a sandpaper monster still learning,

And so often I feel like you are fruit.

Death cures all sickness.
Freud said the goal of all living things is death.
Can I get a witness?

So then it is slow torture for us to do things,
Like keep houseplants and goldfish alive.
Death cures all sickness.

It makes the will to live seem pretentious
When we make it point to continue on, survive.
Can I get a witness?

But I don’t believe in cheating.
Not all living things understand suicide.
Death cures all sickness.

Drunk at night I bear my heart repeating,
That I not go gently into the night.
Death cures all illness.

No, I am bone and breath
And will not strive for death.
Death cures all sickness.
Can I get a witness?

Where did the circus go?

Not like the Del Mar fair
Or the Barnum and Bailey skinny cow version

I want someplace nasty
A bit sticky
Someplace that picks up and leaves
before you have time to go get your watch back

All that’s left is a lot
Full of trash and ride screws
Because the rush to leave was more important
than safety

It’s a place most days now
I wish I could run away to

Slap on fake **** and be the bearded lady
Or warts and green paint and be frog man

Be something along the lines of
Homemade make believe

Be happy believing that
This other place doesn’t have things
Like rent
And car payments
And work that ***** you harder than your own girlfriend will

And don’t tell me cirque de solei is hiring
That’s not a circus
That’s people in costumes dancing and flying around on stages
They had to go to school to do that

You don’t need school to join the circus

You just need the desire to leave
Before anyone notices you’re gone
Maybe leave behind a sticky mess
And take with you something valuable
Like a watch
Or money from the purse on the counter
Or someone’s heart

Maybe I could be tattoo man
Or the ***** Mouthed Poet
And freestyle psalms that ache behind a glass window
That you have to pay a quarter to see through
And another quarter to listen
Or I could be a wax statue of Jesus
The one that if you stare at long enough
You see him breathing

Enough to restore faith in the make believe
That keeps us going

Let me be your side show
Let me be your fortune teller
Let me be the dark room in that back
Only the men are allowed into

Women and children this way

Let me be the ***** talk of town
And leave before the lynching

Let me leave in the night like a piper
With the promise
That I will give you the life you’ve always wanted
If you leave behind all you’ve ever been

Remember him?
He joined the circus?

Where’d the circus go?