if the sun should forget me
if the moon should forsake me

there will be no need to worry
now that you're here

thin lips = cruel sips

at my resolve
and three quarters willful
need to do away
with your memory's
hips.

I
tin cups become cold the fastest, with breath distracted by air more or less filling with smoke
i've got to stop picking such nostalgic scents, they stick to the wrists of all my coats
and when I go to wipe my nose, my mother's right beside me
really she's those hundred miles away
dancing one step
or two closer to my new room
but then one step
or two back towards home


II**
it's like this
roses and a
musk
settled in with old dust
she's not to share it with anyone
because it's swimming in streams with my platelets and memories

of black **** carpets howling at the kitchen door
a bed nestled in drawers
and iron gated windows crowded with fear

your heart an abandoned model home
i'd invited myself into...

I
arrhythmia,
the crocodile surface of this steamer trunk as irregular as my breathing
hurried while my fingertips run over the ridges of words or a beat of my heart
everyone's felt it once before,
in jealousy.
when your teeth scoured the valley of his upper lip

II**
weightless were the days you called me darling
and abandoned your clothes beneath my sheets
don't forget it was me who cooled your legs
keeping veins from throbbing with a fever from our tension
and skin from clamoring for more attention

shaving means mirrors
and seeing your eyes in mine

making it more difficult for those throwaway razors
with a face that's furrowed

i
sure,

it may be possible to wash the sweat off
but you stay long after

ii**
and regret leaves a stench much worse

what use are such soft lips
if you kiss
even the most beautiful words
so brusquely

all that matters then
forgiving yourself for those moments

force feeding yourself caffeine to stay awake for that eclipse
you watched all your lonesome clouding the moon red

an apology to my urges
forgive me for being alone

a coatroom*

there are hooks where your words go
they’re hung every two of four synapses
and when the coats are missing
they shift and snag
on nerves and loneliness

where are your kinder syllables
and why don’t they mind
a lacking or longing

what's the matter lady
moon is always waning
smile fragrant paining

grind those whitewashed tombstones
into a fine dust and blow it my eye
so i might cry
over you
and the distance
and have it be half hearted
but still textbook lacrimosa

por algún motivo
la noche me quiere matar
déjame en paz
oscuro y hiriente
encuentra otro hijo
malvada existencia

según tu me amas
que chiste mas cruel
dicen los segundos solitarios
que pasan entre nosotros
cada vez mas largo
y infiel a tu memoria

te mando una de mis manos
bésalo cariño
y seca tus lagrimas entre los dedos
devuélvame lo, da prisa

haré bien con lo que tengo ahora
la sal de tus ojos entre mis labios

i've only ever

wept
over welts
left by those folds in your sheets

creased and creased
one on each cheek

roll over now

play red and fed up

Player 1 Dead

fists like a side of raw meat,

these streets creak with downtrodden snow

(words) hands bent on leaving you breathless

El momento que te largaste,
la luna se colgo como espejo,
un recuerdo doloroso de tu existencia.

Güera;
brillando porcelana y distante
pero presente
en la noche de mi vida seguiendo tu partida.

Ahora que es invierno se ha puesto peor.
Caídas de nieve hirientamente blanca
forman tus costillas en mi patio,
manchas de tierra visible tus lunares,

y cuando miro por la ventana

lo tengo por seguro que mientras viva tu memoria’s melliza en mi cielo,

yo me morire con cada atardecer.


—


The moment you left,

the moon hung itself like a mirror,
a painful reminder of your existence.

Pale;
shining porcelain and distant,
but present
in the night of my life following your departure.

Now that it’s winter it has become worse;
downfalls of agonizingly white snow
form your ribs in my backyard,
visible dirt stains your beauty marks,

and when I look out the window

I’m assured that as long as your memory’s twin lives in my sky,
I will die with each and every sunset.

don't forget to stir
otherwise it all goes down bitter

and the very last
              bit
is almost too sweet
to swallow

you
poor
naive
thing

city buckles under smog
while rat friends feast
on it's underbelly