please
be
real
because
i
dont
want
you
to
fit
another,

i don't think my bones could bear i t.

theyd crumble
blow
scatter

pile at your perfect feet.

what, in your life, has defined you?

i was laying on top of him and i said without thinking,
''my first love died of cancer
i have seen the empty body of a person i


thought would smile with me forever''

and also i know a lot of strong women

that is what defines me.

let
me
curl up next your fireplace heart.

                      i'll make it easy.
                      i'll love you for free.




i
already
do.

breath in the back of my heart where things hide

i miss riding my bike down 13th south listening to hip hop with my yellow dress flapping everywhere

i miss the moment when i couldn’t see the end of the irish sea

i miss the full moon in zion and swimming naked in a river

i miss twilight yoga where every part of me pulsed with the foggy coast and that beach i will always dream of


glimpses

of

*******

infinity.

what is your fantasy/?
a canyon, i say

****, he says
i think we might be meant to be
and i'm not saying that just because i am
drunk.

my pleasure pierces the cold, snowy streets through open window
as the deepest parts of ourselves mingle
i give him the ******* of the century
because we are practical and know that a baby born into this world
is a sad baby.

his
******
in my palm
is one of those moments you recall later on as

defining

as pure

as achingly beautiful.

burrowed into this summer solstice body that fits
he says,

i'm not letting you go anywhere.

tomorrow,
let's put Jack Daniels to our lips and a road under our
toes
.

let's find a frozen lake and fill our lungs up with majestic silence
.

you dream of a desert house with windows all around,
and i dream it too


of naked feet
of looking but not searching

.

i am no murderer
time is my friend,
it holds my hand

and we


frolic.

I
AM
GIVING
UP
THE
IDEA
OF
LESSENING
THE
JOY
OF
NOW
FOR
FEAR
OF
LOSING
IT
LATER.

THIS MOMENT IS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL MOMENT
AND
THAT
IS
ALL
THAT
MATTERS.

i want to run every grain of sand in your soul through my fingers
not to call you my own,
just to
feel
because i am certain nothing could be as cosmically beautiful.

i want to take every piece of everything tangible you have ever put your energy into,
and meditate under it
slip my ears below the hot water of your composition.

i want to drown in the infinite fountain of catalyst beauty you spout

i want to dance in your orbit and wake up wearing things that smell like you

desires abounding, love:

let's be in the moment
to be in the moment with you is to be in the stars.

if marriage is the                              fulcrum  

of your existence,


all i have for you is desperate disinterest.

what is there to talk about?
how you clean your kitchen and have submissive, dull *** once in a while?

here's a secret: he probably asked you so that he could get down your pants legally. you said yes thinking of a pretty white dress and that feeling you get watching Disney movies.



i asked a suburban woman this question:

                                                      ­   who are you living for?

hollow eyes as she laundry listed Jesus, God and every one of her family members.

no concept of self.

are you satisfied?

                                                     ­    yes. she said. i am satisfied.

how can you look at the state of the world and feel complacency? the longer i  live the more i realize

                                                        ­ that static is not an option.


girls, ladies, women

                                                            you don't need the validation.

things that hurt

you drive to his house feeling like you are driving to your death. you make a decision not to cry, and then make a decision to cry like hell. you sit in your car for a long time. you pull one card from your tarot deck.
it says zen garden.
you say, **** that and walk to his door.

he hugs you and you can tell that he knows. his kiss feels small and guarded.
walk the dog, make painful small talk, try to avoid the ocean of unsaid things drowning us both
i should say something but instead i put my tongue in his mouth like it's never been there before
or like it never will be again
my fire hands touch every centimeter of his skinny body
fierce, quiet ***.

he plays a song and says, this is sad and i don't know why
i say, read this please and i put my hand on his foot and watch my own tears fall slowly and land on his toes
he reads
i probe his face for the answers to the questions i never asked

seconds seconds seconds.

he flops on his back and opens his mouth wordlessly
i say, Adam
he says, Kia
i burrow on top of him and try to say i love you but it mostly sounds like hurt
he says, everything you wrote just makes me love you more
and all i can do is cry
his eyes say everything and nothing

this girl, Adam, i dream about her
she needs you
she is better for you than i am
a piece of me is with someone else
there is nothing you could have done differently
you are incredible,
i love you
i love you
i love you.

he says, i wish i was strong enough to hold you.
Adam, i say, Adam.
you are strong
how are you so strong?

it's a survival tactic, he said

i'm having a moral crisis because i'm doing this on your birthday
and he says,
birthdays don't mean ****.

i can't imagine another woman, his eyes his eyes his eyes
i try to pull my heart out of the blackhole it has fallen into
and say, she's lucky

that's when he starts crying
and i feel as though pain does indeed exist.
and then he says, i'll miss you so ******* much
and i can't take it.

there comes a point where we are quiet again, almost calm
slipping into the familiarity of laying together on his bed
he starts laughing
what? what's so funny?
he laughs from the soul
he says, its just that this is the weirdest breakup ever
and i have to agree

he puts his hands down my pants and says morosely, i guess this is my last chance
i start crying
he says i didn't mean to make you cry
i say nothing but i grab him
and this time the *** is loud and desperate

that was the best ever, he says
indisputably, i say
and cry again but it's in the shower so he might not notice

i decide to spend the night with this person as i have countless other nights
but suddenly it's not that person and things are different
i wear a shirt and when he cups his hand on my breast i ache

let's sleep on this.

we wake up and i call work and tell them i'm not coming because of a death in the family
it's not a lie
we wake up and forget for a second what happened
then his face changes and he says, Kia

i cry
he says,

don't.

he says, silly Libra, you are scared of your own choices and i'll miss you

he says, do you want a backrub?
i cry for the millionth time and say, yes

i say, what does it feel like
he says, like i'm losing something i never had

i watch him eat breakfast
i put on my socks
i watch him take all of my books off of his shelf
i put on my shoes
i watch his pull out his guitar and sing a broken hearted song written for another girl, turned into a song for me
he adds new words at the end,
i fell in love with a gypsy girl.

i put on my coat.
he says, maybe i want a guitar tuner for my birthday.
i say, Adam
and kiss him.

i say, this is the hardest thing i have ever done
it is out of love
you deserve the best

he says, what do i deserve?
i say, the best
he pulls me in tight and says,
you are the best

i say, i am not the best for you.

he says, i don't believe you but i have to respect you
you are the most powerful woman i have ever met
and every step, every choice i make from here on out is changed.

i say, i will be there if you need me
he says, Kia, i will never grow up unless i learn to not need you


i say, i love you
and walk to the door.

he closes it on me as he says a simple, bye

i wail.

it seems like a cruel twist of the universe that letting go is
the hardest ******* thing you'll ever do,
while at the same time the most necessary:
my idea of
hell,
the look on your face when you asked me to not forget you.

i am a strong, wild piece of sky and you are the plot of earth i circle circle circle
never quite able to grasp.

forgetting you is an impossibility that presents itself ,,,

awareness is the slender shiver your spirit sends trembling through my marrow
it crosses my eyes and sometimes they notice.

unspoken lover,
you heard me when you dissolved
you heard me make the painful human discovery :
death means
i can't touch you even though
you are right there

remember how at your funeral, your mother and father didn't cry?
it either meant strength or suppression. i cried until my couch could not possibly absorb one more
tear,
always struck with the sensation that i knew you better than anyone and then feeling selfish because that is a ******* lie.

bravery is the look on your sallow face the day the chemotherapy made you blind
triumphant, knowing and peaceful
accepting
unafraid.
that night i knew before the phone call
your last seconds echoed in my blood.

echo they shall.

you belong to the impossible largeness of love
and it's okay that i never said the three words
because

in my head, you were never really dead.

desire: someone fierce to be in my daily life

i feel weeks turn over and blow away

leaves under a tree.

what am i doing?
i'm sleeping in late
i'm working on a career
i'm doing smart, sensible things

i'm worrying like Thoreau did
that i'll die only to realize i never lived.
it's not what you do, it's how you do it
i'm doing things in a lesser shade of the vibrance i once

blossomed under

desire: someone fierce to be in my daily life

so that i don't forget what it feels like.

excuses

i'm too
young
i have to impress my
dad
i want to live in europe
i **** at
commitment
i might find someone
else.


you are a drop out
you might never find a job that makes you
happy
you make my shallow girlfriends uncomfortable with your blatant disregard for
fashion
you never met your
dad
you want to buy a car so you can drive to me and buy a house so you can wake up to me and
you want my blood, my bones, my babies

truth

no one will ever love me as
purely
as you do. when i ask, why do your eyes look different?
you say, it's because they are so full of hope

i keep telling myself that i can never hurt you, you can only hurt yourself.

because i hope to absorb something i can't quite touch
a dream you wake up with in the back of your throat
clawing, scratching
to be verbalized into
a plan
a place to point your feet.

my flat will be painted red and covered in
tastefully
or maybe distastefully
**** art ,

and i will look out the window and think

the only thing i really need is myself.

if i were to nuzzle into the corner of your neck and tell you the things that are time bomb-ing inside of me,
would you still tickle my curves with your familiar fingers? would you still look beyond me, grasping the galaxies of my soul with those eyes i know i knew before i met you? would you wait patiently for me to sputter undesirable fears before whispering with all the gentleness that you'll love me no matter what?
or is it
different
now, because i reaped your unblinking faith and have no harvest to offer. because i told you forever when you asked and didn't mention that thing where when you get too close i become aflame with claustrophobia, even if i love you undyingly. i have to run. i have to run. i have to bolt. you deserve a family.
i am finding reasons to find excuses to find justification for
avoiding telling you.
on my bed, you kissed me up and down and said, 'for life'
i didn't say anything .
you are a stunning piece of human and i am going to
let
you
down.
just like your mom did.
just like your dad did.
i don't think i shall ever sleep again.
i love you. i have to run. i have to run. i have to bolt.

there is still jalapeno under my nails,
                                                            i know because i bite them.


i feel microcosmic
i feel macrocosmic
i feel that the night i knew you were > all the deadend wannabe artists with groomed hair and a knack for saying the wrong things at the right times

the moon was full as a curvy woman's hips
and i sleeplessly felt its caress through the sky the roof my heart
it carried me pieces of you
and they fit

people ask me if i'm madly in love with a smirk
people ask me what happens when it goes wrong
first loves die hard, they say
i don't know what happened to make everyone assume that
love is destined to be a ship lost at sea

my mom raised me to be tenacious
and darling,
                              you know it's true

we raced a thunderstorm and we won
drops formed
in
my
hair,
fell in your cup of tea
a little taste of universe to fill your bones
with.
cherish:
the way my eyelashes flutter in the nook of your spine the way moonlight mutters lacy somethings

it
would
be
easy
to

curl up under your eyelashes and never come out.

the kid who smoked *** with me every night on my ratty couch
now has Elder slapped in front of his name,  a closet full of suits and matching socks, a two year sentence and a destination
Apostles who make nothing short of six figures
drop holy oil on his head and say words that are supposed to bless and 'set apart'
because now he is not just any kid,
he is a kid who must knock on doors and teach others that they aren't good enough.

from the age of 8 when he was dunked in some water and asked if he would join the army of Christ
like some kind of secret club on the playground
he was told that he would need to save money for this day
i guess the church spends too much money on political campaigns against human rights
to pay for their own missionary costs

here he is 10 years later
too afraid to tell his parents that he believes in God about as much as he believes in the Easter Bunny
because if he did, his mom and dad would be
frowned upon
whispered about
forever made the talk of the neighborhood
can you blame him?
he loves them

i wrap up a copy of Siddhartha in our favorite skate magazine
and leave a note that reads:

                                                 your own happiness is worth fighting for
                                                 best on your adventures

because this documentary is sad
because my best friend's street was destroyed in riots
and i missed her call when she rang from Liverpool
fleeing to a safe place
because i haven't bled in a while
in the way that promises you aren't having a baby
and how would i ever raise a little soul
or maybe it means nothing
or maybe it means i have to tell my father
this
poem
is
really
personal
but that's another thing that makes me cry
why do we separate ourselves from each other
?

when trillions catch up with them
and play-money isn't going to cut it
We don't want anything to change, but we want it fixed!
scream pleading millions who have never seen a silver platter,
let alone had one handed to them
elitists feast upon the stationary

what do you when
the Social Security checks stop rolling
and you can afford your life-saving medicine about as much as you afford your own private island
your eyes carry barrels of worry while the food bank keeps your head above the tsunami
but just barely
you stop sleeping, because what if a wave
comes
in
the
night and snatches it all away?

crying shame doesn't even begin to cover it

this is what you do: not out of want
out of necessity

arch your shoulders, feel the gritty blood pumping still
something they can never cut
is your faith that things will get better before they
end.

i swear its juice from those cherries i was eating
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                                           Not
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                  Blood
on the bed.i feel bad when you feel bad about things you shouldn't feel bad about.
with
one of those headaches that creeps
                                                          ­                                                                 ­                                                       down
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                   your
                                                                ­                                                                 ­                                                   neck
into your fingers
i suddenly realize that spreaders of Love are
shot in the head
while the cruelly corrupt plant rows and rows of seeds

what
if
Silence
doesn't work the way they think it does?

sometimes i get caught up in the biggest black magick trick of them all
money is as invisible as the man in the sky who invents freedom of choice and then punishes you if you make the wrong one
playground games for playground minds
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                            sickeningly,
        ­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                                    it works.

Retaliation! throwing out my makeup / stimulating synapses / loving shamelessly / asking questions / absorbing information /being unreasonable / never apologizing

                                                    ­         Ceasing to Fear because as Lennon said
                                                            ­death is but leaving one train for another.

age
is
arbitrary!
is how i justify whiskey shots on the front porch with adults
singing drunken renditions of Wish You Were Here
it's tender and when our disharmonic voices pierce the quiet street
we all cry a little.

Kimmy puts her arm around me and tells me i am
going
to
do
great
things
maybe it's the alcohol burning up my throat
or something in the light

the
world
is
mine
to
change

woke up in a circle of your icy sweat. ironic after a night that made me drip
heat
leaving you scares me so i try to slip away unnoticed but i always kiss your eyes before i go
and i always love you most
the only one i have ever spared from the
brutality
of my indecision
as it turns out, brutality ***** and the look on your lips when you asked if we could be forever eliminated any chance of that anyway

i would win a staring contest over a man with no eyelids for you

the thing about love is that it makes
my
spine straight
my path clear and it came the second i stopped needing it

That chair creaked
as if rocking rocking rocking would rock away the
sickness
That cat curled
on his lap as if its warmth would dissolve away the
sadness
That frosted the air of
That house
That body
That life

it is there,
and then it is not.

his children inherit his things that they are mostly too tenderhearted to use and laugh because of new understanding that everything is fleeting.

eating Thai curry in small increments because no two curries are the same something like snowflakes and i want to feel flavors burn on my tongue.                 pacing is everything except when it is not attacking devouring smoking tumbling fondling smothering
over doing it

feels right. right as right can be when having an idea of right is wrong. improvisation, dear
making
it up as you go along and along and align your thoughts with your bones
what would it be like to go sleep and never wake up? meet me at the first star on the right and straight on til morning

                                  we were too big for that place and everyone knew it

she won't look you in the eye and her
hands shake as she
organizes twelve pills a day seven days a drawn out week
things are fine for
now,
the tv runs, food stamps are in order, a smoke once in a
while.

she used to believe
Someone is after me
Someone is after me and i have to run away
she twisted her eight year old's hand in hers and told him they were going on an adventure
he was happy when his suitcase was stolen
he didn't have to carry it  from state to state to state
anymore.

               mom, you went to college?
               yes, i went to college
               teachers say college will make life good
               yes
               why isn't life good?

stability means being hallowed out and left to an empty room.

it's funny how home can be
                                                an obligation
                                                a relief
                                                the place where your bed is where the food is where your mom is
                                                a hug a kiss a look in his eye
                                                wherever the night leads you
                                                ran away from
                                                bolted towards
                                                not a house
                                                stifling
  ­                                              missed
            ­                                    comforting
                  ­                              it's funny how it is what you make it and how i keep happening upon that truth

/******* futon sleep woke up to the sky looking like somebody owes it money and my cat ****** me for attention and an empty house.

an echo in my lungs that would wake a dead man from his sleep

i miss your bones and your breath.the way our curves collide, two winding roads meeting meshing melting together
when i wake up without you by my side i am a little kid lost in the grocery store calling for
mom running running running down endless aisles
i want to pull your voice from the phone and wear it as a sweater to keep in the
warm
and keep out the reality that
appears to be nearing implosion,patiently scratching tally marks until it reaches the number that everyone can feel if they
listen.
i have been told it's a sign of lacking wisdom to speak in absolutes
but love,
i absolutely irrefutably love every piece of you, always, forever , eternal, on and on and that will never
not be the case.
after a crash course in independence and several flirtations with lonely nights

i know i don't want the world; i just want your half

my dog ran away this morning
i underestimated his loyalty as i bolted through the neighborhood
with hot, wild tears
and he was waiting for me casually on the porch when i returned

it scares me when the world feels
small
and not unfathomably large. everything is moving so fast but it seems directionless, like a spinning top trapped in a corner

i want to breathe in the trees and stand still
and feel that the universe is indeed benevolent
and that the end of days is really
just
a beginning.

in the booth of a slightly upscale burger place
my mother brother & i discussed how the idea of religion makes us feel
claustrophobic
how we would much rather be talked with
than talked at
how A.D.D. only exists so that people can pin a problem to their shirt
and how kids are given tootsie pops to pledge to be 'drug free!'
as their parents fill them up with Ritalin
so they can get A's like the other kids.

i glanced to my left and saw a mother, a father & a son
her nails were very painted
and his face was glazed over with judgement

they had nothing to say to each other.

and when they smiled at the waiter it was not with their eyes.

the Bravest person i know replied without so much as a flutter in her eye

I don't have a backup plan
that
would
allow
me
to not pursue this
wholeheartedly.

i keep
         falling
                    more in love with you.
                                                     not
                                                      a
        ­                                             downward
                                                      tu­mble, more like

                                                           ­                             falling up.

a place where it seems we can get no higher,
and then
                                                                ­                        we do.

me:

i am moving across the country
                                         
i will be gone for four years

i will be writing and seeing and photographing

and hell is not a place,
hell is having to kiss your face goodbye.

him:

i miss you already

i have a good pair of binoculars

your dreams are beautiful and i am patient as a lion after prey

heaven is not a place
heaven is knowing that we are that one-in-a-billion story that stretches past distance and lasts forever

we were cut from the same fabric,
                                                     he whispers into the morning
and my agreement echoes in the seamless stitching of our bodies

too bad John and Yoko already took that photo,
                                                     i whisper back

Adam
    told
    me
'i have no doubts in you'
    in
    that
staggering
fraction
    of
    the
    illusion
we
call
time


love became more than just a concept.

well,
i am accustomed to writing about the dismal and the dingy,
the sharp corners
the foggy roads
the desperations.

now,
i am at a loss
because how do you wrap words around
love that is free
seam bursting happiness
puzzle piece bodies toppling with the feeling that we have always known each other
even before we met

this is a new place
where the poetry is
our souls
our skin
the colors dancing between us.
and i can say this:
love is not to be tasted
it is to be

devoured.