I spend my time meandering the halls of other lives
and yield with some discretion to the questions, "how and why"
although my understanding may be limited somehow
I'm not afraid to fall apart in someone else's now
my blood is made of seekers who have tasted life and death
and fervently laid doubt as bare as every single breath
"my hands are still in working," said a voice I came to know
a part of me as much as every petal on a rose
I bloom inside a garden that the sun will never leave
I'm here until this world is not the place I'm meant to be

i have been
clothesline dreaming
screaming fits, saying
i've prayed, praying i'll
say what i mean and
you've been that
poetry pouring out of me
a bleeding but you are the
portions of a reality
i only see when i sleep
my god, it's been
seventy weeks, oh
and the colors i cannot see past
twelve shades of torture your body makes
anytime you do anything
it's all
brown and green and mean to me
i mean i need it
it feeds me i mean
i don't think you mean to
i think it's just
me meeting me sometimes &
that's meaningful right ?
tell that to me at night
to the dark and stars and all of the
quiet questions i guess i guessed the
answers to
tell that to me in my bedroom
ask me the time this time &
i'll tell you about that time i thought about love and saw a burning bed
ask me again and i'll show you
say love again, love
i've been dying to show you

I felt and then fell, I
did not even jump
I flew to kiss lips that
knew nothing of love.
I bent and I borrowed
forgetting to say
I held something with you
I do not have today
although there are storms
be there
break and decay
our love it made
hurricanes
look simple like rain