I look through my telescope.
Try to aim
steadily.
But all I see
and focus on
is blue-gray nothing.

I admire the stars
and I look for the moon
but I'm sad to admit
my telescope lacks zoom.

Maybe the world's moving too fast
and I'm not quick enough.

Maybe it's just that my patience didn't last
Don't think I've got the stuff.--
to make this the night
I envisioned it to be.
The fire the dogs the telescope and me.

Well the flames at least
are still here to see.

I’m scared of silverfish
and you know
it’s the only bug
that’s made me jump
on a chair and actually
start to cry.

Pretty embarrassing.

And I don’t know why they scare me
so much
when they can’t hurt me
but they do.

And your perfect lips upturned in a
smile.  Laughing,
all the while
I’m standing on this chair
and you’re standing over there,
still laughing
–but trying not to
‘cause you know
I’m scared
so you hold me.

And I like when you do.

The feel of the cloth of your vest on my face
as I lie on your chest,
relaxed and I wait.

This is fun, huh?
Nice
like this.  
You ask me what I’m thinking
but I can’t say,
just keep blinking, and
all I muster is, "I don’t know."

I like looking at your face.
The colors appear
to me like a
soft glow.  
Even the shadows
and the darkness
under your eyes.
Darker than
your cheeks.  
Your lovingly flushed cheeks,
complimenting the shades of your eyes and lips.

Your lips. Your perfect, perfect lips.
I looked at your face and told you
"Perfect"
and you said,
"Nothing
is Perfect."
And I told you I didn't create that idea intentionally
That the word just
comes to me
again and again.
I didn’t ask but it just keeps popping in,
saying 'hello' to my mind and telling me
that "Perfect" is correct.  

Every time I
look at you "like that"
––the way I do when you ask what I'm thinking––
I marvel at your complexion,
the assemblage, construction,
melding,
artistry of you.

Here. Here is what I am thinking:

I think of an artist––
Someone who sketches.
Someone who draws.
Not with charcoal. Something more fine.
Dark pencil, maybe. Or a quick, sharp pen.
Richly dark
Purposeful and Exact.
Because your lips are drawn
with perfect, simple, sharp symmetry
as if your artist knew
what was wanted
what was needed
and drew. Then left
because there was nothing more to add.
No,
if he left he must've come back
to look at you some more
like I do.
The quick strokes,
the genius behind his hand.
The brilliance of a movement of ink on canvas of skin.

Your lips are complete in their famously simple,
touch-and-look-how-kissable,
delighted,
red, red lips.
Your lips and cheeks go well together.
And your green-yellow-maybe-brown-too
eyes
With your naturally dark black eyelashes.
Straight.

The same artist who drew your lips
outlined your face.  The lines are the
same. The style has forethought.
The skill used was confident and assured,
your artist.  I can praise your artist
and do. Amazement
and I see how you study me
as I watch.
You can see me taking you in and I
like how we can just look at each other.

I like just to look.

Sometimes, yes,
I think other things...
but often, so often,
it is this.
I
contentedly study,
observe to understand
and embrace your being…
The more I look
and the more we feel
each other,
the closer I think I am
to reaching your soul.
Your base-level.
Soul.
... People should be more hesitant
in using that word.

It is used
too lightly,
too readily,
too frequently.
I doubt people
know a soul
as often as they think
they do.

Intimacy
is different.
A soul
is different.

But that's what I'm interested in.

I've gotten glimpses.
I am comfortable
around you.  
We have a lot of fun together, don't we?
Huh?
But I like
that we can just be, too.

So.
That’s something I think.
There.
And I wish I could draw for you or paint or cut but writing is my medium, my form.

So I describe for you
how I can.
What I can
in words.

.
.
.
.

Feel me tonight.
..

Close your eyes

My fingers through your hair...
     slowly my hands move down
        intertwine my fingers with yours.  
Warmth.
I move to be on top of you,
And I only
   Look at you.

Our eyes close
When I kiss your lips.

Closer, I rest my head on your shoulder
and with our eyes still closed,
we breathe.

I kiss your neck and your shoulder and chin and scar and cheeks and ears.
I like your face. I like touching and kissing it. Kiss kiss kiss.

I breathe in and I can feel our bodies wrap around each other-––
So warm, this energy.
The lightness,
This melding-soaking
That is so natural.

And we are clinging and tightening and tugging. --Squeeze!
Squeeze!
Tighter, ––tighter!
I won't stop squeezing!

...

Its hard
To Not touch you, you know.
It makes me want to cry.

'I kiss your tears.'
I wipe your snot.
I give you some water with lemon to drink.

Man, I could put my cheek so close to you
and feel the flutter of your eyelashes against my skin as we laugh.
****.
Wish you were here.

Your lips.
To
my fingers,
my cheek,
 my own...
See I had my senses
repeat repeat to themselves,
soaking in
what to remember
of you.
.
Around me and in my mind
.
.
Then, I open my eyes..
and it's just me.

Drawn out, and
Brought back to this moment that says,
I am alone.
... Counting the minutes until I see you.
   Less than 24,000 to go.


Close your Eyes...

Review, Relax, Sleep.

I'll see you soon.
And sooner in a moment.

Now, if I don't say goodnight,
it's weird.
We're not together
still we seek affection, comfort
in each other.
But if time goes by
and we don't talk,
you're in tears.
This fall it's a year.

I go out
and I don't want to have to
answer to you.
I don't feel like
making excuses
but you know everything
I do.
I care though;
I don't want to upset you.

I could lie
or be vague
but my pride is at stake
So I'll stick with vague,
force you to wade
through my words
so carefully chosen,
––off-handedly given
so if you find out
I'm dating again
you won't blow up
we can still be friends.
I'll be forgiven
and you won't close up.

'Cause I would hate for that to happen.
And I know you would too.
So don't let it happen
Let's just build something new.
Intimacy without ***.
Love and trust without a partnership.
I know it's possible.
But with us,
every drink turns into
another night together.
Our hours go by
because it feels unnatural
'cutting things short arbitrarily.'
Tearing apart what has
grown together now.
...You and I are not a perfect match.
There's space between these ridges.
Separately,
you can see we're not the right pieces.
You're not the right fit.
For me.
And it *****
Because I wish you were.
It *****
seeing someone you care so much about
be so torn open, heartbroken

(I think of everything a parent hopes
will never happen to their child
because, I think, they know how it felt
when it happened to them.)
It. *****. Knowing
that person your mother feared is me.

At least I have a reason now;
something to grasp how
I could disgust her so much.
But it's not.
I want to say it's not.

I'd rather you didn't know of my shame
that thing I feel
when I pull you back and forth.
I know, I know, I know
I'm to blame.
Wanting one thing for you
So I say it.
I don't want to play this game
But I know it's what you want to hear.
So I hold you close
because I think I'll hurt you less
if I'm near.

Leaving means retreating means fleeing
to you.  From something 'too real'
you think I'm incapable of handling.  
But that's not it.
I don't feel what you feel.
I will suffer repercussions of
not seeing you,
someone I've grown attached to
and feeling the void I've created.
I've instated.
And I know you'll be so mad.
****, you'd be such a
loyal friend to have.

I swim.
Warm water.
Warm day.
I think of you.
I lift my head up
and my hair slicks back.
I smile widely
as a monarch crosses my path.

I think of you
when I look at the
trees.
See the shadows
and the sun
and the shrubbery underneath.
So beautiful,
for no one.
I hardly noticed
but now I see.
Highlighting and
contrasting
colors.
Shapes.
Smells?
It's all here. So I dry
and catch a picture
when show and tell
appears.

I think of you
when I untie my top...
I wonder if neighbors can see?
Still alone,
I don't stop.
Imagine you entreating me.
I laugh
I smile
and even when I get mad
or sad for a while
why is it
I keep thinking
of you?
Somehow,
of my senses,
your touch
flows through.
Anytime I'm without you
I feel the longing
for your hands.
And to tell you things
that excite me
because I want you
to understand.
I learn more; I want to share.
I hear something great; I want you
to care.
But what I want now
is just for you to be here.

I never liked those green shades
Don’t worry dear the mist will fade
Away after morning
The shops are closing
The ships are leaving
Later on the sun will come
Bright and burning to scare
Away the mist
Don’t be afraid
We’ll walk the streets
And pretend that we don’t care
‘cause it’s okay
just move your feet
and pretend we’ll go somewhere.

So pull the shades
Or don’t look out
You’re growing up
Can’t hold you back now
Tie you up or confine you to
This chair
Can’t find you, you’re not here.

I know when I
did something wrong.
Happened on that day
It’s been too long
And the memory hasn’t gone away.
You can’t forget and I regret
But you wanted it that way.

Your anchor’s down
My checkered frame
Of mind is too hurt
Is too pained to decide

Her legs won’t move
His voice won’t talk
We lay in silence
Unable to walk
We can’t hear you
‘Cause you’re not there
We want to reach you
To pretend to care
Like you pretend to stand.

I’ll walk the streets
And pretend I don’t care.
I’ll walk away
‘Cause there’s too much here.
If it’s okay
I’ll just move my feet
And wish I were going somewhere.

I don't know why
he laughs so much.
No one said anything
funny.
He doesn't want to talk
about the War.

At show and tell
my teacher used to
tell me
that what you tell
about a person by
what they bring
to show and tell
all they’ve got
is who they are
and they’ll show you more than tell.

She used to say,
‘Don’t be afraid
Of who you are,
Of what you’re made
Is comparable to some
But to the great’

'cause we try to shake
what we were given
so 'they' wont see
how different we are
from them who decide
the fate of our lives,
so here we are with
open palms giving
you our fears.

So you decide
Because I’m afraid
of who I am.

My grandfather...
Poetry?
–He wouldn't understand.
Flying airplanes?
That he comprehends.
'The feeling of mornings
and sunrise' he needs,
he says.
'They are the core'
of his being.  
...He doesn't expect me
to understand.
-Won't let me say I do.

I want to learn to whistle
With ******* in my mouth
But your pink lamp is on
And we’re not outside
And you’re not moving from your bed.

So I’ll go in my head
Again

With dinosaurs and racing cars
And princesses and shooting stars
And alphabets in Pharaoh’s time
When I grow up you’ll be just fine
‘Cause I’ll be a doctor
I’ll find a cure

Then you can come with me.
And we’ll go outside.

The green grass is waiting
For you to smile again
And the dinosaur will be there
To take you for a ride or be a friend

‘Cause it’s hard without you.

Sometimes cars can go too fast.

But that’s okay ‘cause it’s just in my head.
I’m right here and
You’re not dead.

Writing a poem now
seems a daunting task.
I used to write
every night
––multiples a week!
no one had to tell me,
ask,
no one had to seek.
What should I write about?
I'd just look around.
It'd come,
It'd flow
The words were happiest when found
––They'd tell me and I'd know.
But then, months later,
uninspired as I was,
Confused, upset
and just a little lost...
I looked back
and took a gander at my outlaid pride.
To my dismay, to my contempt,
my words were silly
and had no cause.
Upset upset
What am I writing for?
The talent I have
is in my head
and I need to be alone
once more.

Like a star,
it pulsed.
Glowed for a moment
and I almost
missed it.
It did, glow, though.
I saw it.
Before it went out.
It went out.
Not with a crack
or a pop
or a shout.
Just quiet.
Like it wasn't there
at all.
Nothing to begin with.
Not an ember.
Not a star.

Everyday
People come in here
With their skin sagging below what should be.
I don’t mind.
I’m in the concessions.
It's okay if you want butter.

An unpainted
treasure chest
with the initials
"LP"
No glaze.
--Takes me back to the days
when I made her.
8th grade and I was no
art major.
-But I made her.

Bland, against a white wall.
Unnoticed
among them all.
There's a lid
and a box
but no key
and no lock
there's no way to keep shut
or keep out what I shouldn't trust.

Unpainted, unglazed, just burned.
What a haze.
While I move
to another room,
another wall,
it changes all.

Now white can stand out.
And it won't ever blend in.
Not unless it's put against
a white wall again.

Your presence comes to me
like some broken silhouette
Hi, hello now. I try to remember
before I forget
like some once known
refrain
If I can just train
my mind to
remember
I don't want to forget
don't go.

'Cause these are still
pieces of me. Blue glass I've stepped on
cutting my foot but pretty still
on the floor. Odd
how that can be.
These remnants of you
And I don't want to forget
doesn't matter I guess
at least I won't regret
in a day or two

I won't regret
what I can't remember.
What happened
February March April May
My mind's blank
from September on––
January
––transitional month
a blur
I'm unsure
What happened
since September.
I try but I can't seem to remember.

I didn't think I'd be
writing poetry again
or for a while.
It's neat
how things come back in style
with the way to approach them.

I'll find what it is you
wanted me to write.
It's hiding I think
in this cold purple night
with the fog rolling in
like something
sick from within
finally coming out
Too trapped to get out
but now it's out
it's out it's out.
Cry for me I can't believe it's out.
Keep looking surprised for me.
It's out.

Feel I want to scream
and spin and die.
and stand on my head
and sigh.
and sigh.

So what did you want me writing again?
Something about or for
or having to do with you,
my little muse.
Go. eat some glue.

Don't go near the fire,
Phoenix!
Oh, you've still got a lot to learn.
You feel warm
as you get close,
But close enough
and you'll get burned.

I stare into the pit
as I warn you of this
Hypnotized by the movement
Like greater meaning is amiss.

A sudden change of air
and the heat
makes me aware
of some deep longing
for comfort
I guess we all share.

I put my name out
And people suddenly know
or think they know
my secrets.
Reading my words
selumpkraneepshakor.
They know me.
You know me.
More.

Skimming the surface, but you know
it's the purpose
of our little exchange
Brief, exposed embrace.
Look around just in case
But you can steal something
of mine maybe no one else will see.
Someone might've seen.
There's a bug on my page.
Brush it off for me but
don't look too far over the pages
flicking with this wind.
Air trying to cover for me
so you don't see
what it is I've been writing
as you sit here beside me
distracting me with your
full silent gaze.
You surprise me in the way
you admire me. Can I say that?
Don't tell. Don't look.

You look at me
I look at you
The water's clear
See right through.

Look to the bottom.

Touch it there
Ripples move out
But I'm still here.

I see you smile
I touch your face
Let's take it slow
We're in no race.

The water's clear
Not green or blue
It's like my eyes
Seeing through you.
Step in, we adapt
Touch my lips again
Soak me in the water
Maybe I'll go numb again

Before too long
The sun is here
Canceling out
Our every fear.

Adjust adapt recuperate
And snap
Sprinkle the water
On my shoulders
So I can feel something again.

Under the old wood bridge
We built so long ago
Soaked through
And useless almost
But for shelter sometimes
Like now
From the sun
Coming out again overhead
To sweat
us, dripping
with warmth
when cold is what we need.
Please, plead
Cold is what we need.
Salty water is useless
in my eyes.

I don't know why
You feign surprise
How could you not know
I wish we had stayed
Or hadn't met
Or hadn't come.

In another world
I didn't show
...didn't want you to go
Stay with me here
The sun won't melt us away
Not yet
Few more hours still
It's only noon
Touch my lips one more time
Before I retract
Splash, ripple, out, out
Concentric circles
Ever-expanding until they
Hit something
Or give up, exhausted
With nothing left
Of what energy began them.

I don’t see you yet.

It’s Getting Late.

Where’s your white horse?
Your tender speed?
Cupid, I think
I need to find your bow.
You miscounted;
Only shot one arrow.
Cupid, where are you now
Why don’t you come?
Fix this mess you made.

But it’s okay, I’ll just wait
A little longer
While this street light
Will maybe shine a little stronger.
For now
I’ll just wait

And the cold feels good.
Wish you were here.
I know I should
Stop wishing on stars
But it’s hard
To look at something
So bright
And not burn your eyes
And know that I
Can’t feel that warmth
Unless I wait
A little longer.

Take off the skin you shed
Release her from your bed
Your blue eyes
Misty and blind
Sensitive, with your instincts
All arranged
Don’t come for me tonight

Your heart will swallow me whole
Suffer me and close in
Enclose it all
And you want it that way
I can’t scream
Can’t get away
I’m paralyzed
Hypnotized by the fear
Of seeing you
Here tonight
I’m so alone tonight
Of seeing you here tonight
With her.

hey, Privacy!
How are you?
Are you coming out to tea?
"I don't think so,"
you say.
"I have to be somewhere at 3."

I may not be head over heels
but see
To put it simply
I like it better this way.
Cause now my vision
Isn’t clouded.
It’s as clear as the day

What attracted me to you
I don’t know if it’s real
Or how I can tell
But I like you enough
To give up some of my love

You can play with it—its putty in your hands
I want to see what you can do with it
Will do with it.

I’d rather feel and fall
Than never fall at all
I care.  I want to know

What it’s like
So when it happens again
I’ll know what to plan
I shouldn’t avoid the pain
Cause then where’s the gain?
I’ll be smart
But I wont be afraid
To risk feeling it all.

Up until June and then
The next day
You can see
Right into my heart
We try to unravel
Things so we can see
The ending and
The start.

If we can understand
Where it came from,
It makes it easier
To beat.

Salty tears and
Metal guns
Aren’t easily swallowed
They’re hard to eat
But if I arrive
Right on time
And you remember
Who I am.

Will you think its alright
That I can see
Where you hide?
Your rustic walls
You are no match for me.

Your eyes smudged
And lips upturned
Makes your smile
Appear deranged.
Fix your face, change
Your style
It isn’t mattering to me.
I don’t care about
Anything anymore
All I want is
To be free
...or something cheap.

The more I
see You
The harder it
is
The longer
I’m away
The more
I hate
But the
second
I
see
you,
I recognize you from down the street,
i forget my anger i can’t stop smiling my frustration turns to
hurt
i don’t know what to do
but
The more I see you
The harder it
is.
so.
the longer I’m away
i can just keep hating you.

Telling my friends
I don’t know what you mean
You’re leading me on
How can I be wrong
They agree still but I can't
Block you out
I need you in my life
You’re a part of me now but
The more
i
see
You
The harder it is.
The longer I’m away
I get to keep hating you

But i don’t want it to
Be like this.