I avoid you so superbly,
My thoughts fly by before I get a chance to try,
And write them down,
Scribble notes on back of receipts,
With four dollars left for a bottle of pop,
The air conditioner turns on,
And my soul jumps,
Maybe flys,
So far out,
I lost it,
I don't know what I love,
I thought it was you,
Sweet sweet words,
That were my own,
Created a Cacoon,
But now I run,
I don't stop to pace,
Back and forth,
Hello Poetry.

Lights were on,
you were home.

His car,
watermelon green
boot static in front,
lit up as treasure
beneath a streetlamp globe.

Snow pinched
windshield,
fingers numb,
gloves with pentagonal
holes 'round the wrist.

Got out,
cold hit me
like the train squealing up
at Canal Street
near 2AM.

That's where
you found out
who I was.

I thought you were
another twenty-something
from Greenwich Village,
discount hairband
and a wrong shade
of eye-shadow.

Eighteen months later,
I can't even remember
what colour your eyes are.

Knocked the door,
a reckless mistake.

Heard a murmur,
rowdy thump down stairs,
a ****** of glasses
(wine? Surprise.)

It had been a while.

You were expecting me.

I want to tell this to you now. But I could never find the words to tell you. I wrote hieroglyphics across your eyelids, stapled memos to your chest, and flew banners in the scenery while you dreamt.

Translations of these words alone will not be sufficient enough to tell you what I want to share.  I... Miss you. I miss you like a front tooth on picture day.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"