i am a lost girl
the kind who will let you stare
into her ocean eyes for free
and swallow your compliments
profoundly eagerly
while always knowing
all nourishment is temporary

i am a lost girl
the kind who has sorrow burned on the inside
of her mouth
nothing can take the taste away
not even love not even people
who said they would stay
because she knows more than anyone
that they never do

i am a lost girl
the kind whose passion will tug on your heartstrings
so hard you will be able to feel
the vibrations throughout your entire body
long after she has left you
covered in kisses and invisible bows
stranded on an abandoned
railroad pleading
for release

i am a lost girl
the kind that knows what she wants
but does not have enough drive or self esteem
to keep  a solid grasp
for certainty has always been like sand
slowly slipping through her fingers

i am a lost girl
the kind that will settle on what little power
she has left
the kind that will sing you to sleep
if in turn you will tell her
just once
that she is beautiful regardless
of if you mean it
or not.

when I reminisce about
our Yesterdays
the recollections that stand out
above all the rest
as the most important
the remembrances that call to me
louder than all the others
to retain my attention again
and again
the memories that are painted
in the most vivid colors
to recall my mind's eye
repeatedly
and inexorably
are always of those times
when I've made you


Laugh


like that
just like that
the laugh I love the most
where it seems to almost
burst out of you
as if you couldn't hold it in
even if you'd wanted to
where your eyes crinkle up
the way they do when you're about
to cry
and your blood rushes to your face
rushes to greet me
and you become my favorite
shade of pink
just like that
you're at your most beautiful

how many times now
have I made you
lose control
this way?
made your body rebel
against your will
made you shake
in uncontrollable
ecstasy
that left you sore
and gasping for breath?

Not nearly enough

for of all the ways
I can please you
pleasure you
for of the whole range of choices
I have at my disposal
to make you shudder
in uncontainable joy
there is not one that returns to me
half as much delight
nor conveys half as much
of my desire
nor expresses half as much
of my love
as does the Gift
of getting to hear you laugh
at me
until you are entirely
spent

I cut the middle fingernail of the middle
finger
right hand
real short
and I began rubbing along her ****
as she sat upright in bed
spreading lotion over her arms
face
and *******
after bathing.
then she lit a cigarette:
"don't let this put you off,"
an smoked and continued to rub
the lotion on.
I continued to rub the ****.
"You want an apple?" I asked.
"sure, she said, "you got one?"
but I got to her-
she began to twist
then she rolled on her side,
she was getting wet and open
like a flower in the rain.
then she rolled on her stomach
and her most beautiful ***
looked up at me
and I reached under and got the
**** again.
she reached around and got my
****, she rolled and twisted,
I mounted
my face falling into the mass
of red hair that overflowed
from her head
and my flattened **** entered
into the miracle.
later we joked about the lotion
and the cigarette and the apple.
then I went out and got some chicken
and shrimp and french fries and buns
and mashed potatoes and gravy and
cole slaw,and we ate.she told me
how good she felt and I told her
how good I felt and we
ate the chicken and the shrimp and the
french fries and the buns and the
mashed potatoes and the gravy and
the cole slaw too.

There's a house on the street
There's a room in the house
There's a bed on the room
There's a man on the bed

He has a mind that flies
A soul that blows
A heart that loves
and a force that cries

An idea on his mind
a struggle in his head
the words that he can't find
to express when he'll be dead.

There's a poet in the bed
with the spirit of a child
a spirit driving wild
the end waits just ahead.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

What is it with this fatal attraction
For my soul that’s what it is
I have tried hard to ignore it
And not always give in

Erase you from my heart and mind
To be free from you at last
But every time you’re near
I simply have no chance

What is it about you
Keeps me wanting more
Your eyes mesmerize me
And pull me into your world

Your body makes my pulse race
I undress you with my eyes
I wish it were just physical
I’d have walked away by now

I love the way your mind works
Even if I don’t always understand
You make me think about things
That I never have before

The way you make me smile
And the way you make me laugh
Is just another of your facets
That keeps me coming back

I love the way you accept me
Like it’s ok to be myself
I let my guard down around you
And I take off my many masks

You seem to understand me
Even with all my many quirks
You even seem to tolerate me
When I’m acting like a *****

There’s so much more about you
That I just can’t find the words
To tell all the reasons
That you're driving me  berserk

That’s why I keep staring at you
With such passion in my eyes
You're my fatal attraction
And that I can’t deny.

When they stripped me of the life in my bones
I looked to the stars,
and plucked the moon from its perch
with my lips.
And the rage in their fists
tried to pry it from my skull.
But they cannot win.
They may look down on us with their
hollow eyes that can do nothing but weep,
and their hungry mouths that spit ash.
But I know what hope is.
And They don't.
No matter how many times I am beaten
I swear that the birds that sing in my chest
will always be louder than them.
Tell me what holy is,
and I will tell you of the love in my veins.
Tell me why you hate so much,
and I will tear it apart with my shame.
I will split the night open with my words.
I will sweep up the ashes with my rage.
They cannot win.
Not when your eyes look through me like that.
And while you sew together my wings,
tell me of the love letters that God left
on your windowsill.
Tell me of the fists that left those scars.
When they finally bring me to the gallows,
make sure that the noose is made
from the strings of guitars.
Carve my spine into the heart of a tree.
Spread my ashes over the lips of the sea.
Tell me what holy is.
And I will take you to that river full of sin.
I will write my poetry in the snow with my bones.
Tell me where Gabriel is.
And I will clean the blood from his crippled wings.
I will be an immovable sky.
The mouth of the river that never ceases to sing.
They'll separate us with razor wire,
but a few cuts won't hold me back.
They'll scream at us with their empty taboos.
But the paintings I've got tattooed on my ribs
aren't black and white like their words.
I'm done hiding my heartbeat.
I want to taste the words that come off my tongue,
to paint with the dirt beneath my nails.
Say my obituary was written like a poem.
So that when God greets me at his gates,
he will tell me that I was alive.
That I wasn't empty like Them.
But I'm tired.
And I've walked one too many miles in my
own shoes.
But it's impossible to stop,
when you've got wings flapping in your chest,
and a heart that burns like a lantern.
Remember me like this.
Spouting words from the darkest corners
of my soul.
Words that stick to you like a lover's kiss.
It's a song.
A manifesto.
An epitaph that will stay burned in your eyes
until you blink away the tears.
I'll keep walking if you just carry me
on your back for a few short steps.
A couple of shallow breaths.
Just let me rest.
So that the next words that come out of
my mouth will be “I love you”.
And you'll see that the bruises on my back
are the notes of music.
Tell me what holy is.
So I can tell you why I keep moving.
So I can spread these wings you've built for me,
with the skin I've shed
and my broken bones.
And I'll teach you how to fly too.
Because life has no rhythm
unless you give it a beat.
Tell me what holy is.
And remember
that we
are not.