i sometimes think i'm in love with the
bird-boy
who pecks holes in my wrists and puts pegs
through the fence (to keep me close by)
but bird-boy is
so young and
so sweet with
clear eyes and  
no clue that i think i may
be
a wren.

Too many
Sad words
Wasted on
Sad girls
With delicate
Faces

That mess in the booth next to mine
The one with the perfect smile and
puzzled eyes
Eyes drooping
Hanging like oranges on a tree
And fat bats
Swaying in the darkness
Laughing at an open sky
I'd **** to wake up next to that disaster
To be transfixed by her essence

and I'm always amazed by how much I can feel you
and know that you are flooded,
   just like me,
with those stupid words we're both too scared to say.

the wrong body sometimes touches me in my sleep
in toothless dreams and
quiet scenes.