Lust is taking
Love is *giving

I wish the traveling circus were still around to run away to. It's not about being afraid to leave as much as it is needing a place to go. But my father was a mountain and my mother was a hole. And we're caves, mouths open and full of the cold. Been sitting so long myths have been made about the things that live inside us. The children come on dares to look in there. And yell in fear, at first only to have those sounds echo back. Then they laugh. There was never anything to be afraid of. Our bodies are full of that noise. Mostly the laughter. It lasts longer. It feels better. But is easier to forget because no one ever learned anything by laughing as much as being brave. You have to be scared to be brave. And moving from this place takes the strength of an earthquake sometimes. But you should know, your hands will never be big enough to hold all the rubble when the mountain crumbles. I remember when the cancer hit. The chest x rays from when they removed the portocath. Backlit, your chest resembles a busted cemetery gate from some ghost scene in a Sherlock Holmes movie. Broken. From letting all your ghosts go. And don't focus on all the things your hands can't hold. Your head fits just fine. Your hand. Cupped over your mouth to catch all your sighs. Can hold a cup of coffee to give to someone. Flowers. A poem. Tonight. Tonight you realize you're a mountain twice removed. A marble statue. So strong and so beautiful people will come a long ways just to see you.

******* ******* *******
******* and your pretty eyes that put the stars to shame
******* and your smile that made my tummy flutter for days
******* and the way your smell intoxicated me
******* and the way your arms kept me from falling apart
******* and how you made me feel so safe
******* and how you broke my heart
******* ******* *******

I cannot even begin to describe how free I feel.

AM I the river your white birds fly over?
Are you the green valley my silver channels roam?
The two of us a bowl of blue sky day time and a bowl of red stars night time?
  Who picked you
  out of the first great whirl of nothings
  and threw you here?

hey there, hey now, just hold on..
the road ain't bumpy if your dancing to the rhythm...
tell me, tell me, tell me how..
you still learned to smile, with the conditions that you live in..

granted, granted pain is foul...
you still made gold with the lemons you were given..
truly God himself is wow-ed...
in fact, I'm surprised you don't even have a ribbon..

Sunset Ave, has lots of sights,
perhaps you chose this corner for a reason..
its getting kind of cold, this night..
just our luck, there goes Cali with the seasons..
..
the cardboard box, a sweater and jeans.
a flashlight, a belt, a bible and dreams.

police said it was wrong..
couple nights out there, made us strong..
Momma said just tonight, tomorrow we'll be gone..
and if you fussed, she sang..
"hey there, hey now, just hold on.."

cold, isn't cold to me no more,
cold isn't cold..
one day we'll settle down, a porch and all..
but for now were on the road....


-afj

Please be gentle, because I am frail
If you're going to break me, I want it to count
I want to be a million pieces of shattered glass blowing in the wind
Spreading like the weeds you pluck from your garden every day
So when you're walking barefoot through the green grass
You may stub your toe and remember that I used to be more than just a thorn in your foot
I used to be the mirror you looked into every morning, laughing because there's no one you would rather see across from yourself
I was once a seed you planted in your mind
You will let me grow with beauty and might
And you will **** me out when I occupy too much of your space
Like a **** in your garden,
Please be brutal, so I can no longer be frail.

How can I write poetry about you,
when you've never compared
my eyes to
the sea during a storm.
or told me I have galaxies inside me?