new was sitting across from me
her skinny was wider hips waist
hair by face was precisely framed
in the neatest skin of comely youth
i was talking my kept my mouth was
to slaver words dear as quickly heaving
as to her ears i might impulse the livid inch
of her pristine lips to defeat my useless sound

she told me once that she worshiped the
forest of her body and the garden she had grown (like spring
                                          all over her outsides).
she said she loved skin the same way i  loved
marlboro blacks and sweetwater blue (obviously and
                                         uncontrollably).
she screamed compliments at me in
soft words with rough meaning (like ****** knuckles against
                                        freshly cut grass).  
she assured me that it was okay to wake up
in cold sweats with heavy limbs (unmovable and brittle,
                                         buried under sheets).

but i knew better.

I did that thing I do,
Where I push people away
Without even trying.
And I can't ever translate
The breathless and overwhelming love I feel for people
Into actions and words
Or anything all
That is visible to others.
So I constantly seem
Like I don't care,
Or I don't love,
Or I'm only being nice
Because
I'm high.

So hollow yet so full of emotions so eager yet so calm my life is like the quiet before the storm or the aftermath of an explosion. Nothing is true and nothing is new to me in this life of a sin as I continue to ride in the fast lane on a mission of discovery. I am lost and I am found. Who am I or what am I? All I can be is me in this sea of life.

It’s OK to tell a secret
to a dolphin or a seal,
but a pig cannot be trusted,
for a pig will always squeal!
You cannot trust a potato
It will only tell them lies
Some secrets they are mean that’s why an onion cries
I may tell one to max
Or fife or bob But I’ll never tell a teacher to tell you off
Is her job
But when comes to animals
Tell a dolphin or a seal but
Whatever you do
Do not tell a pig coze they will only sequel
But secrets are  mean they heart some ant true
So when you tell a secret imagine its about you

your gaze rests upon my shoulder
like a black hole
sinking me into an oblivion
where only our two heartbeats
will be heard

I fear to look up

please, stay.
while I keep my heart at distance.

the nuclear energy flashing
in your eyes,
the places on my neck
that rate on fire
where your lips could ravish,
the edge-of-combustion feeling
inside of me when I see you…

this contagion of desire
that sinks into the skin above my heart
is a garden I don’t dare stroll into
for fear I might find I desperately need
a life filled with only our laughter

I don’t want you to live inside
of me like a secret wind
with all the loneliness of a leaf
in the forest
who is denied love through the dark green spaces
that it forever remains

where sunlight has forgotten it
and its unreachable happiness is
a sadness that moans and
pushes its solitudes
deeply into the root of its tree
and where loneliness is a desperate cry
after it has been torn from its anchor

love is a dying hope where
my heart can lie restless
like the leaf farthest from the stars

so, please not too close

your nuclear eyes
are a bargaining chip I can’t afford
as they stir my soul into
an endless dance
of wanting and hope
the source of possible pain
where I could find myself offering
my soul in wholeness

a death for life
simply to light a fire
on my shoulders from your mouth
where my skin turns into
a newborn star
a flash of radiance that
awakens the universe

your touch could, quite possibly,
be a never ending
creation of universe within universe
a collision of existence
like life itself blown apart
where the end of the universe is
where two dormant hearts awaken
and cause life to recreate itself

distance…
my black night that asks
the moon for her light

you make me want to love,
or die, or leave

and this confusion stirs
in the pit of my stomach
like a stone in the darkest place
of the ocean

so I break away
from your gaze
and fade back into the shadows
where my heart talks to the stars once again
to dream of a nuclear kiss
that I may never have the courage to accept
for my heart cannot afford
another death

in the noisy
silence
i sit and dream
of dancing in
the rain, catching
drops as they fall
between my lips
savouring the
silver nourishment of
each
germinating thought
of tranquility

I am giving up this
inter-webbing
narcissism spreading
social networking
site.

And I’m dedicating time
to the lost art-
a pen and paper.
I will take pictures and post them
on the original wall-
an actual wall.
I will develop and wash and rinse
and size and mat
in the original Photoshop-
a dark room.

And if I like something of yours,
you will know it because
I will tell you,
I will smile,
the original thumbs up.

And when you search my name
and find that I do not have a Facebook
no, I am not dead-
I’m alive.