I sit thinking, rocking, musing on the edge of the bed- perusing the colors of your memory blinking fractionally in my remote consciousness.  How is it that when I probe tighter, more thoroughly into your visage, trying to define the shape of your face from the faces of my dreams you tend to hide more than ever behind the noise of my thoughts? But the instant I clip into happiness you are there laughing and hugging and spreading lightness on my plaster cast life.  I suppose I need to forget this sticky fear of forgetting you.  You shape my clay life, pressing deftly upon my mind and habits like a waffle iron crisping batter.  I must not forget that I am too deeply stuck in love with you to ever bleed you from my mind.

…and if again he is the flavoring,
why perchance not allow my waltz
to frolic circles round your
Sage Advice-

Throughout all the whimsy
and laughing silent kisses
(bubbled pinked ribboned fluff)
there sequestered sits
MY ultimate sincerity severity.

Quit scoffing whilst you’ve lost your savor
          his Now is my favorite flavor.

Every slightest gasp of breath
that clears my shoulders of their weight
belongs between the slightest space
that grip the letters of your name

and all the running, shouting sounds
of children playing in the street
the sanctuary where they bound
bears a shadow of your frame

You’re thick inside relief, my dear,
the air hangs flat- its languidness
in awe of piercing shafts of light
which knife them at their brightest core

your coursing spate of energy
tumults the dust, reshapes the room
encapsulates the shredded mass
and leaves the fragments pleading more

As I have pranced this newborn space
and shed my skins of weariness
I’ve ascertained a whimsy fact
that I have found forever true:
I cannot cut the air, my dear
without delightful consequence
of lacerating you

Gift my Heart
Oh diminutive finch.

once you chortled
gleefully,
cutestuck
in my happy compliment sky.

Do I forgive your migration?
You flighty fuzzball!
vacating briskly, frigidly
the premeditated enclosure
perfectly designed for your every need.

your obdurate flight
left perfect circles of Hollow
(spaces eating my gaze,
like black holes
ravaging stars)

No,
I am too imbecilic.
You left breadcrumbs
trailing from the Candy House-
and I intend not to be eaten.

could not I come, however?

                                                                           [you are a soft word of extra cream and when I think upon
                                                                                                                              you I cannot keep pretending
                                                                                          that I would have you stay anymore than I would
                                                                                               trade your laugh for any other flecked miracle]

Thus I am resolved.
I shall be your migration.
The knife of your eagle glimpse
shall perceive nothing
without my invisible acquiescence.
your talons
shall clutch with the strength of my
most bashful beam

Oh my reddest-tailed raptor!
as you hunt and fish
the wildernesses I mustn’t trample,
I will draft your flight,

But only,
my mellow heron,
If you promise to leave me a feather,
with which to heavy my heart.

They talk phrases that have no meaning to them
saturated in ignorance
like frogs in formaldehyde.
Let’s cut them open
(In a formal procedural sanitary way)
and see what causes them
so much confusion
and so much conviction
that they are Right
and those with working brain matter are not.

Yesterday, in a fit of laughing passion
                               and monstrous adrenaline
I spun out of my dorm and
                                          went long boarding.
                                                                            between the speed wobbles and
                        maniacal laughter emanating from my
                 masterful failure, I dreamt slyly that
                                                        you were the wheels carrying me crazily
zigzagged through the flushed streets
or maybe
you wove the road that carved
                                                              into my emotion- threatening both
                                                                  that you will act too placidly or at the same time maybe
                              too precariously.  (ripping my shaking
                                                                ankles from their humanity and
                                                                                         introducing them suddenly-obnoxiously to               Course Pavement) You do have that
                                               kind of capacity you know, to
                                                                                     lift me into a peaceful rest or
       throw me into a turbulent anarchic spiral.  
But truly you are the 100 % bamboo
                            flexible fibers flowing
                                                              between me and the gravel demise lifting me
                                                   gently upon the wind of the road,
                          the adrenaline that courses through my sporadic
                                                                                                   insistence and
                                              the breeze that whites my cheeks and
                                                 sings my lullaby relationship between speed
and the thin thread of life
                                             spinning through my caustic veins.