bodies are galaxies;
and within ours
constellations
go all rogue in seconds,
talking to each other
without
permission and consent;
without our knowledge;
there is a plot
behind our backs,
a conspiracy
of unexplored possibilities;
and like plastic dolls
at the hands of gods
we are drawn so close,
a clash ensues
of comfort zones
with the aid of gravity;
we'll regain control,
of course,
just before impact

Greed is a person who enjoys sitting on his balcony as he sips tea, laughing as he hears others suffer, beg and plea.

l i k e

you just sort of exist

but you don't really

*mean

i see you in broken dreams
fragments of you scattered throughout my unorganized thoughts
visions of your head laying against my stomach
your eyes pouring into mine
ripped holes in our clothes
a cigarette hanging on the edge of your plump lips

i hated the smoke that lingered around the apartment
but i loved you too much to leave
there was something about the smell
that was so perfectly you

there was something about your deep cocoa eyes
when they looked into mine
on our late nights between the sheets
that begged me to stay

i loved you
i promise

everytime i walk through city streets
cold biting at the edge of my ears,
the smell of cigarette lingers in the air
and i think of your eyelashes, fluttering

I remember the most beautiful moment of my life.
I couldn't have been 4.

Everybody was gathered in the park,
a gathering to watch the sunset
and there was music playing.

This was a single moment lost in the 90s fever:
The singer had just died,
and I think we were celebrating his poetry
or his clinginess to life.

But at the same time, nobody was talking about it.
There was just silence and the sunset -
a meaningless collection of sensations
to all but a childish mind.

I've since tried to talk to some of the people I reckon were there,
but none of them recall any of it happening.

They would have me believe
the best moment of my life
was a dream.

What are we?
You just fill my head,
With endless questions,
But always fail to mention,
What we are,
What we are doing.

You're not over it,
Over him,
So where does that put me?
I'm like the toy,
That you just build,
And slowly start to breakdown.

What should I do?
Should I just leave,
But then who would you have?
Who would I have?  

Will I ever be free of this torment,
It's like i'm stuck in this cage,
Waiting for you to set me free,
But you don't,
And I'm stuck,
Waiting,
Waiting,
Time has become my enemy,
Ticking down the days,
I don't want to do this anymore,
I just want it all to end,
I can't take it,
Maybe I should,
Who would actually care.

even if the whole world changes

His body was the scene of the crime that he was never permitted to leave

The home battlefield of a surrendered side shown no mercy by the aggressor

If he looks down for too long then the memory of ***** hands pressing on his throat and spreading his legs open return

There was nowhere he was safe

Impurity had burrowed under his skin

his insides had paid the price