The minds' spittle;
Kernals in the kibble,
Eternal yearns little;
Little found inside
This ground, hallowed
Fallow sound rebounds
Echoes in the resonance;
This breath is;
Slipping into respite
Beneath the noon’s lights
Knowing tomorrow holds another dragging,
Cigarettes between lips, ignite
The tick tock’s sagging, bliss
Missed in tearful reminiscence.
Sip the sweet wine
And add a stain, a scraping
Away of the cerebellum’s folds
Every evening after waking
Drag this frame across
A few sharp blocks
To get a fix
That will **** the chattering
i can hear it in the way your voice sounds.
the way you laugh,
the way i can see your smile through the speakers knowing that big heart carries worries and hardships that i will never know.
like quiet refrigerator humming, i can feel the pit of your stomach in mine.
i can see the way the ivy of the ocean spills and rushes around your neck the climbing waters rooting into you.
after the quiet days you will give me a meter and i can feel my heart start running miles, reaching for you,
trying to figure out some way to pick up all of this broken glass so you won’t get cut on the sharp edges.
i’m trying to save this sand that is spilling from my chest into my overflowing hands, so we can build a home together.
trying to bail the water out of the hull of your ship so the salt won’t touch your lips,
the ocean is deep and wide and so, so much blue but it isn’t enough to even try
and keep me from you.
i will swim out until im so tired im gasping,
so i can carry you out of the deep, brush the jellyfish from your hair, and whisper to the starfish that have found home in your eyes til they slide away back to their tidepools.
i will kiss the salt away and smother you in fresh water and warm hands to hold.
i know you are sailing in rough waters, the waves beat against my door and it makes me sea sick knowing you’re so far out.
i will turn on the lighthouse and stretch my arms as far as they will go, reaching to pull you back safely to the shoreline,
reaching to bring you home.
I rested on him,
And breathed in his,
A strong scent of musk
*** and hummus
Mixing with our intermingling
Pouring out was this,
His and mine,
When those freckled knuckles
The veneer between us
And into clarity; I gasped
And held on,
We would end
As all things do,
In a tiny death
Today I drew a tree.
It was a metaphor, really.
Written within soil were my aspirations,
Dedications I hoped to grow.
I came back to it this evening,
And saw the gaps within the bark.
Grabbing some tools I pressed my
Self on spaces asking to be filled.
The emptiness marked was darker,
Fresher from the pen.
Adding texture to this child’s art,
I smiled and drew again.
Of an empty future
Where every day slides by
Me, an existential malaise growing
Bigger by the hour, swallowing down sadness
With a new, shiny app and the latest distraction;
Calling my self an artist
And a lover
And a friend
Without ever feeling art
The fading of my eyes’ light
A whispering into my ears
“This is justice
For what you’ve become.”