Stepping on carpet
(climbing onto rock)
We stare at screen
(I cast my spell...)
I CAN conquer man's demise.
Touchdowns
convert  to gazing into the scripts of our souls.
Stagnant and somber,
you are inches away
I am in floating in space
I sit on couch
(or sitting on active volcano?)
and stare at blank walls
(or cotton candy sunsets?)
And I grab your hand
and we float out the window
(much like Peter Pan and Wendy)
and we are Icelandic campers
we are North African monkeys grooming each other
we are Alaskan sibling salmon, swimming to the exact spot our eggs once resided
always against current
teasing the brown bear
we are slipping penguins
the sea lions watch our transition
from awkward wobbling
to graceful gliding
figure eighting
between icebergs
We have so much energy that the gulls
might bet on us melting the bergs
we are gas and light and air and water and mother moon

we are so much more than this cancerous room

I know it. You know it.

Instead we groan at fumbles
and pile plates high with lays potato chips
layered grief stuck between tongue and cheek

Goodbye my dear friend.

I know you heard me.

Leonard Cohen
I sought out your words
and disguised myself in blankets of prose
I followed you like Hemingway
and Bukowski
and cried when you died
like a mentor I never had
Or a lover I never
shed skin with
But your deep tones rattle my bones
to this day

The moment I opened up
Like a true millennial I open my phone to text you immediately
And as I start to write my thoughts
you send a text
It's 7:30
You NEVER text me at this time
and I NEVER text you at this time
and here we are
Two energies seeking each other
My day ends in a hot yoga class
I had forgotten about that moment
and the instructor
Is super sentimental and likes to start his classes with an intention based off of a morning thought
He stated that the story we should focus on
is when we hold hands and can feel the hand after it leaves
when we go to call someone and they call us first
and BAM
It's there again
my eyes are open.
It's all connected
My energy and yours.
You are my relief
My dear pea
Our days mesh
You tell me about your doubts with the passion and love and depth you offer others
it's dangerous for them
you think you are a danger to them
but you aren't
you are sanctitude
You are magnitude
You are resurrection of the soul
that window you stare into
Your energy is felt even when you don't think it is
You want labels
Especially "crazy"
but you are color
Every ******* color
And this is not meant to pet your ego
and make it purr
It's meant to bring attention
to the fact that those souls
that you feed
They are hungry and you feed them for a lifetime
or momentarily
but both mean just the same
Because you
is in all of it
And just like I know what you are about to tell me
before you even utter the words
I feel every movement
to such a degree
that I truly believe the universe will never separate us
And my gorgeous dearest friend
You are an organized map of all that I am with you
and all that you are with me
and we can organize it together
without the ****** liberation
but with the freedom of the connected pod
You think you destroy and destruct
but you are merely just being you
The you I see in your hands
when they hold you up in crow position
You cannot dim your locks or your influencing spirit
Don't ever do that
Just because others don't know what to do with it
Your dreams manifest
You have to ask yourself
Where am I in all of this?
What do I need?
and don't shame that
You need and you want and you cry and look up at windows
and it's all gorgeous my dear friend
Your poems, your lyrics,
don't ever mistake your pores as seeping black
They have always been spilling yellow
Gorgeous layers of yellow
I beg to be sandwiched between those hues
I hope more that you recognize the slurpy messy textures of the radiance
in a form that is graceful
and
dear dear beautiful
soul brother
pea to my pod
You recognize that all of your glory
is good
Destruction is not your middle name
rather its complicated
It may have so much to do with the incapability of the others
and how they respond
and if they are capable of jumping off of the tip tops of trees
into the depths of the oceans
breathing and finding
I can actually breath the cobalt
and if they allow it
they could combat the world with you
instead of against you

Your words are drilled into my bones
Unwrap my skin
To find capitalized syllables molding my marrow
I try to sand down at least my ribs
In hopes to remove you from all that protects my heart
But they are imbedded at a permanent level
Your teeth swim around in my stomach
Chattering up
Climbing up up up
Into the middle of my throat
And your tongue slipped from my clenched fists
years ago
Slithering down my stairs to lick up the tears
I form every time
I close my lids
And see your high cheekbones
They are thieves in the night
Ripping apart childhood images
My raggedy anne doll
grass stains on the knees of my white tights
and tea parties with empty cups
Your voice echoes in all of them
Calling me by my full name
Telling me to brush my teeth after dinner
I still cup my hands under the faucet like you do
And I still look at the water spilling
Wishing I was with it slipping down the drain
Away from you

I want them to say I was obsessed
Crazy mad for the earth that curled around my feet
Tortured by my addiction to touch
Sinful for the hunger that knotted up the trees near your house
That led me to your walls made from
raw words and thick veins
That they would whisper that I was  
Desperate to hold onto the moon like a
healer holds onto mortality
I want them to find comedic relief in
how fortifying  silly colloquialisms are to me
sinking with me when
strangers called me "petal"
All of them would gladly proclaim
I died from drinking too much
from an aching well
of your words
That my bones were wrapped in silky sarcasm
My blood almost translucent in a carpet of
olive moss ,
whispering back to the cumulus
"why?", "of course, my love", and "me too"
I want them to describe my time
as a staunched storyteller
with ears for eyes
and an ocean mouth
I want it to be all okay
That I entered the earth soft and weeping
but left as
a bizarre beautiful form

my soul is a basement
flooded with un-choreographed movement,
rapid waters of words I never really meant
and empty fish bellied breaths
My heart is no different
just one big blue gilled vessel
aching
wishing for stars within black veins

Yesterday I was told that I was air
inventive and cool to the touch
offering oxygen and ideas to breathless souls

All I was to you was sea sewage
forcing you to hold stale breath
gripping onto other
floating debris lovers

And I was a shark circling
waiting for the moment
your weak grip slipped
the last of dry flesh would sink under currant
and there I was reaching for your perfectly
rainbow arched feet

I pulled you deeper and deeper until
finally I let you slip back into a world
where gravity was your enemy
and I, left alone as a sea monster
for ***** divers to gape at

And here I am sifting through the sand
trying to find purpose for our salty memories
Do I bury them and hope they convert into nourishment for the
algae?
do I let them float to the surface and offer light to your pirate pals?
Do I string them like pearls and adorn the humpbacks?
I could stuff them into the fisherman's cages and
let them surface back up to you
to **** from crab claws

But alas, captain

Until I find a purpose for all of our ****** up
suffocating memories

I'll scoff at being labeld "air"
and harbor those haunting pieces of you
like the mossy skulls I lay with
at the bottom of this dark ocean