Under the sheets we scream
It's an eternal dream
Feelings interweave
We seethe with anger
And breathe in steam
We are the softness underneath
Each with our own needs
Fires in our bellies
Roaring like lions
Heavy on the warpath
Quiet in the darkness
Following the impulses
Which speak to our innermost being
I'm sorry for your loss
I’m by your side
Of course
I am with you in this struggle
Come love we are double
More powerful than the pain
We are individuating
Sanity is unsanitary
You satiate me with your dignity
Infinite possibilities
Are bleeding in our vicinity

i wasn’t born to create
tear stains in my pillow at night.

i was born to draw
blood from bone

The sensation of separate complices
A summation of neural activites,
Wherein lies the experience,
Out of which unfolds an impossible self
Into which leaks a necessitated calamity

You are a walking catastrophe
Better stick to harmony
Best to learn some theory
Blue note, blue note, rest.

It could be fun,

Or it could be
a repeat
of last time.

Boys, cottage, girls, drugs,
me?

The last time I went to a cottage,
I cried until I was taken home.

The time before that, I was with a group of
people and

things,

they weren't great.

I have not been to the cottage
since

2013.

The year things happened.

Maybe this year
I can overcome that
fear.

She reminds me
of old, painful
geometries.

Her close-grained
rasp and enchanted,
pierced warble -
a close kiss
& a hammer.

"Some days
all you need
is one good
thought, strong
in your mind."

Her voice
is Orpheus,
looking back,
is Ophelia,
on the willow
branch.

It shakes
dullness from
the soul, the
way you clean
a coin
with salt.