you live on the puke star of dumbstruck
you sniff glue,  but stick too a strict code of *******
you're the mule and the contraband
the sweat on a flea.

you're like a radio silence. screaming and ****.

lucky me.

need to take

a second to breathe

must take

a moment to eat

a scattering of a heartbeat

to sleep

and bathe in the whimsy

something,

someone

will whisk it all away

close my eyes and kiss me

tell me to forget.

remind me

to function

because i often forget

i still have to be

living later on.

Another time shortly fallen.
Another sun on the horizon.
Light slowly condensing
Into something larger than itself.

After a moment,
The halt of a heart,
The break of a breath,
Barely becoming an obstacle.
Unintentionally, I lift
Another moment into the air
And sigh.

Twelve seconds subsequent,
This follows:
Shuttered windows
Across the courtyard
Stars staring down
More than consistency:
Cessation of infinity
Until I part.

Unearthing indifference
of widowed shadows
cast upon mighty rebels.

Melancholy charm of bible
utmost...

Aghast! and the Curate?
Has seem depicted yet forgotten...

So what is it
that it is
that it does
and where is he
that beautiful boy
when I need him the most
he is off
doing who knows who knows what
and he should be here,
should be
should think of me
because he doesn't
and it doesn't make me mad
it just
makes me pathetic

You give me butterflies
And this scares me
But I like it
Come be near me

Can I tell you
Whats within me
This confusion
It's amazing

I trust you
But I'm scared
Because I know
When there is no more
When you leave me
When I can't see you
Where will I be
                              Lost eternally

You are my best friend
You are my man
All I need is
For you to hold my hand
Even if it's only once
I need to feel your touch
'Cuz your mind is beautiful
Your voice is appealing
And here I stand
Waiting to take your hand

So your hands are big?
Ok, I feel safe
Just don't let me go
Because I'll never know
What to do with myself

And so if you go
You can blindfold me
Or just take away my sight
I know I will adjust
But only so much
I know I'll understand
The beauty around me
But I'll never be able to appreciate
Everything that surrounds me

But enough of you leaving me
The thought is too depressing
And let me tell you
I'm so grateful to meet you
That I think of you
Before I go to bed
That to the Lord
I humbly bow my head
That I thank Him
For putting you in my life
And I thank you
For giving me butterflies

Flesh is heretic.
My body is a witch.
I am burning it.

Yes I am torching
ber curves and paps and wiles.
They scorch in my self denials.

How she meshed my head
in the half-truths
of her fevers

till I renounced
milk and honey
and the taste of lunch.

I vomited
her hungers.
Now the ***** is burning.

I am starved and curveless.
I am skin and bone.
She has learned her lesson.

Thin as a rib
I turn in sleep.
My dreams probe

a claustrophobia
a sensuous enclosure.
How warm it was and wide

once by a warm drum,
once by the song of his breath
and in his sleeping side.

Only a little more,
only a few more days
sinless, foodless,

I will slip
back into him again
as if I had never been away.

Caged so
I will grow
angular and holy

past pain,
keeping his heart
such company

as will make me forget
in a small space
the fall

into forked dark,
into python needs
heaving to hips and *******
and lips and heat
and sweat and fat and greed.

my shaking, unsure fingers yearning for this    
    mythical love in places i could never find    

and i could see the hope of our creator
swimming through your bones in such
an effortless way, it had single-handedly
been one of the most beautiful things
i've ever seen bleed through someone.          

      the curve of your smile getting caught on    
    the eighteen sharpest edges of my heart    

you seemed anxious but in a good way
and i'd never seen you like that before, but
seeing you standing there, with fast lips
and screaming eyes, was quite possibly the
moment i knew i was gone. so far gone.          

      my anxious, scarred palms blindly dreaming    
    that i am not nearly as alone as i appear    

there were a number of things i had found
hidden underneath the several layers of
your soul, still tearing a bit at some of the
edges, but you still somehow managed
to hold your irises up to the stars.          

      the slow blink of your eyes when you realize    
    i could maybe be something like everything

watercolours

should they cool
from dormant anchorings
in the eye's
deep harbor-

become quietus and vague
without remedy-

say ' Farewell '

to October.


(maple) and  pine


disfigured
into thin blemishes
of lament

where the fog
has perched it's grey soul
deeply      amid the telephone wires

without message...

say 'Farewell'

to October.

and no one
driven softly mad
out here

[ speaks.]