love like we did
cavern toes to nose
bury me where

we sleep

move on again
you must keep moving
bury me with my single bead

bone I save from my lost child
if this one dies first,  then
bury us together

not in death season
not worth it, not well
if you can, I know you

you will bury me in long grass
like fingertips licking at fire
you will place me just so

so that I will move on
next plain of understanding
hope, love, anointed with right

oils, please take this sad body
bury me with my lone bead
never forget how we loved

life

In pain
decided to join
meditation class
few days
a calmness in my mind
a feel of detachment
from civilisation,
a bliss of feeling ones
with the world..

We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you
Heart.

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.

i see it in your eyes
the way they falter
as my gaze
brushes along your face
i hear the crack
in your voice

your forced smile
breaks my heart

when we are in love
we are raw red hearts
bleeding
exposed to the flesh
of the night air
in crisp, sharp breaths
ventricles open wide
as its beats paint
the stars crimson,
skylit rubies
baring all
peeled back touch
of cells like
the muck of our guts
spilled out yet
       somehow contained

My insides are
braided, like veins
pumping life into universes
receiving the tender fire
of your jeweled, earthy words
rising to meet each kiss
like an abulation

I am
boiling cherry broth
in this heat-licked ice
that melts upon the tongue
in salted frenzy,
delightful

Wash over me
Hold me in cupped hands,
                       gently
Take me by the tips of
my soul's hips,
                  firmly
for I am at risk
of being pulled into
the sweeping monsoon
of
     your
forever

Perhaps subconsciously,  
                                     the Statue of Liberty
inspired Miss America & the Coney Island
        Mermaid Pageant;
   & being on the water
w/ her lower half sheathed
         in a concealing stola,
                    behind big bronze toes
                                   perhaps there lurks      
                                              the scaly green tail
      of a gargantuan fish;
                          the lady
   in her original form was intended to be naked
but the Puritans running 
       New York wouldn't
have it; but still in all,   it's very easy to imagine
Lady Liberty in a swimsuit
                          or the buff;     green
the way she is, pictures of the statue would be
used as pinups; women imitating
                              her style if not
her complexion;          the slight green patina of
                                                             olive skin