I heard your violin
swoon
and the sand on my back

I'm sinking

the cold wind
feels colder than
last summer
and more familiar
all the same.

and I can write symphonies to your sounds
to the waves
to the crackling of the fire that went out

(long ago)

and I heard your violin play
and I heard it cry
and I heard it reaching for me
as I waited for the waves
the tide
to touch my legs

a
crash

of cold

and the waves hit my knees
and there's salt in my eyes

and I can't stop laughing.
hysterically laughing
and crying
(it's all the same,
Pacific
Atlantic)

I heard your violin swoon and
it kissed the stars
and me.


I'm
  sinking.

You'll never see the Eiffel Tower

or the elephants in
India
or
that painting place in
Portland
that you saw in
the paper
last week.

Last week.

a week when you were you
again
(and I was all of me again)
and you were breathing air
again and
everything
       was
   right
        again

[again
again]

You'll never see the the moon shine
and
I'll never see your smile

again

or hear your laugh
and hug
and 90's tshirt

(the camel on the front)

or see you walking up
the gravel

a hand over your eyes
to see the way.

To see the way again.

I need to see the way
again.

I lost a mountain
worth of soul the
moment
I gave in
and wrapped
the ivy 'round my legs
and let the carnivore
**** me in.

I lost an ocean
of passion when
I sat in front of you
and closed my eyes
to lose the pain.

Empty pit
and empty hole
and where did all the
roses go
when I can't dance
and I can't sing
and no one even knows my name.

And now I know
how to
trade a soul
for empty space.

I never noticed the
flowering tree on
Franklin Boulevard

I walked down
that footpath
a thousand times,
and saw right through
the bark.

But now it's full of
blossoms that
reflect the sunshine's rays

and I hold my
breath as I walk past
and shower in
the shade.

I never saw the tree
because some roses
line the street

So I ignored simplicity
(eyes and roses meet)

Now I can't ignore
the blossomed tree
growing on Franklin
Boulevard

It's profound how a
flower blooms and
makes you notice bark.

I saw a kettle of
hawks winging circles
in the sky

my eyes squinting
because the sun
is so intense
[after an overcast rain]

I haven't seen the sun since God knows when.
and
I haven't seen a hawk since I was home, again.

I saw three brown hawks
flying circles
in the sky

over hazy mountains,
blue, cold, hazy mountains
on the corridor of
I-5

and I took a breath with the
windows down
and shout out
my loudest sound,
face in the wind,
hair flying back
like a wing on the wind

and I remembered
Summer in the valley
with you and a
dandelion, barely brushed
by the breeze
and you

and the sound of a cow
no different than
the sound of your breath
no different than
the sound of your heart as
I leaned against you.

I never knew I loved
a kettle of hawks,
so,
in the sky.

I miss that muddy creek
where we snuck under
the bridge, cut a
trail in the blackberries
(they always caught
my ankle, tore the
bottoms of my jeans)
where a rusty car
sat by the water
and I watched you catch
water skippers and
we talked about "the plan"
if a cougar came
from the hills for a
drink.
Where we abandoned
bull frogs and threw
rocks into the water.
Where Augusts last forever
and where we never parted
ways.
I miss you more than Deer Creek
and those rainless, summer days.

I broke an egg and
blood fell out
into the pan.
You told me it
was a bad omen
that someone
close to me
would die.
and you touched
my bare hip
and for a moment
I felt fat
even though the
doctor says I'm
losing weight
again, 5 lbs
in 3 weeks,
again.
and I know about the
blood pool in the pan.

Have the birds gone yet?
did they leap from
muddy water
yet

and disturb
cold, placid lakes
in a hurry to escape
the chilling frost,
the snow.

I wish I had wings
to carry me away,
a hurry to escape your
chilling frost.

If only India weren't
so far away
so I could touch
the yellow streets
the orange, the red
the muddy water
(the print of
an elephant)
where I could hide
in tall grasses
by deadly snakes
and wait to be
pinned by a
tiger
the orange, the red.

A temple where i can't
even remember your
name
because all I
hear is Hindi.

where all my problems
would be solved, alas,

a cup of tea
my feet stained brown
the orange, the red.
I'd never wash the jungle
off my hands.

The night is pitch black
and all I see are stop lights
stop this silent war.

I've been barreling across oceans
lately.

Across blue and green
and salty winds
(my hair in a mass,
as I
sail, sail, away)

I've been closing my eyes and tearing
over waves.
barely letting the foam brush
my toes
(a tingling tickle, that I
choose to
ignore).

ignore
so many times that I
can't turn around and go back
and hold a sconce to my ear and hear the
ocean anymore.

I've become a desert snail.

Trudging through the sand
(so hot it
scorches
my stomach
and
I can
almost
hear you laughing)

up hills, up hills I go
of burning sand
(they're coals)
and I feel it underneath
my fingernails
as I climb
I climb
I climb
where I can almost touch the sun.
where I can feel the warmth of kindness on my face
again.
where I can imagine your eyes
the color of a garden snake

the cruelty of a garden snake.

In my shell,
I hear no ocean.

I've become a desert snail.

i hate the way that shapes
make shapes
and lines all
connect at
the end.

that i cannot separate
from you

that my end
eventually
meets your end

i hate the way that shapes
repeat all
the time and
connect in ways
that
make me
sick.

and miss you.

and ways that make me miss you

all the same
i hate the way that shapes can never end like you and me.

I imagine drinking the
world up in one big
gulp
a swoosh of angst
and all of time would
fade away
diminish into
little hopes
and dreams.

Then I remember stars
and the blackest
blacks with
purple
flickering and
the
gold flecks
in your eyes

The sun!
a charcoal shadow
of a cave
beneath
the plateau where
you plucked a
yellow flower and
you pinned it in my
hair.

I'm too full to
the top
to drink anymore.

I broke all the matches in the match box.
Hastily cracked them
in half.
I crowed at their
inability
to burn.
I threw the box down
and I laughed.

I broke all the matches in the match box.
When I realized
I needed
them most.
To light
the fire
that I let burn out
to obtain more than
your shivering
ghost.

I broke all the matches and the match box.
I hastily
collect every one.
and I try as
I can
(shaky cold
hands)
to put all the
splinters
back together again.

But I broke
all the
matches in
the match box

and I know
you won't
forgive me.
I know I'm a liar.
That I destroy fire.
our love has expired.
And i know
that

you won't forgive me.

i had forgotten all about
love
until I saw a
glittered branch
upon the smallest tree
on Pearl Street

twisted and bent
and the slightest of
all flowers hanging
down upon its stump

and little drops of water
falling
to the pavement
as I held my breath
[they didn't make a sound]

and i remembered how a flower needs
the rain.

Oh.
Oh is all
that I could say as
you turned your chair
and I saw your hands scribbling fast
incoherent words
on medical
sheets.

Oh.
diagnosed.
diagnosis is all
that keeps repeating
in my head and in my sleep
and dreams you
diagnosing
me.

Expect to get your blood drawn
every visit.
You're a new patient.
The first one's the hardest.

Oh.
I am scared
and no one knows
what I am going through
the thoughts where I don't know
if my body will betray me
lay me down
and go to
sleep.

Oh.
is all that
i could think to
say and feel and where
have all the words gone when
he stares back at my face
and i can't even muster
a questions to this
diagnoses.

Expect to get a call
tomorrow or the
next day for
your next appointment.
the first one is the hardest.

I saw a falling star.
tumbling from the sky.

nobody believed I saw it
falling as it died.

behind the
hazy mountains
above the tall
fir trees

I saw a poor star falling,
and nobody believed
me.

The sun makes
all the
girls
beautiful

tan
freckled
sunglasses
smiling

but I
stand back in
the shade
and long

for days where
the sun doesn't make me
sick anymore

sweat
sweat
sweat
I'm fainting.

like paint
underneath my fingernails
that charcoal
which looks like
dirt

[I've washed my hands a
THOUSAND
times].

and still you linger.

like oil
never dries on skin
it smears
and smears
and smears and is
eventually
blended in

you linger.

that oil that won't leave my brush
it dries
hardens
crust over night
[a weekend]
you linger and

I can't paint anymore.

I'm a black cat.

I'm sleek and writhing,
moving my hips back and forth
to avoid
broken glass.

Tiny feet pitter
patter
making no sound as I drop to the
floor.

I am a black cat.

with eyes as green as emeralds
and rapid breathing.
I can't stop moving.
I can't stop ruining
everything you set in front
of me.

I am a black cat.

I am poison.
I'm like Macbeth in a theatre
onstage
watching the lobby go to flames.
watching the people scurry
I chase them.

I'm a black cat.

I'm stupid.
I'm young.
I'm terribly simple
and simply afraid.
and every tale you hear of me
is not true at all.

I used to search for
love and soft
words whispered in my
ear
and [brush the hair back
from my eyes]

for hands on hands
cold fingers entwined

dodging rain drops
with your arm over my head to
keep my fried hair
dry.

I used to search for
your gaze
eyes drilling a hole in
me
and [drill until I'm weak in
in the knees]

the laughter
the blush of the cheek

dodging judgment
with my hand in front of me to
keep my sensitivity
dry.

But now I do not search for

love.

I do not care at all.

The man of two faces
the foggy dance

of twist of bend

of flipping over
under
above.

of changing.

There's an ugly side,
man of two faces.
a face I do not hate.
I do not loathe.
I do not fear.

I am only sad
and broken,

Gemini.

I've been loving you so
long
now it seems
and I do not tire
of one chord, one stroke
one stream of earth
or gravel beneath you.

I've been loving you awhile now
loving your shapes
the lines of your silhouette.
And I bet,

this will not cease so soon as young loves
often do.

I've been loving you steadily now, how
since the day my eyes saw you
and felt the wind [first touched you] blow towards me.

the moment I couldn't catch my breath
when I fell within you.
I've been loving you so long now
[it certainly seems]

and it seems like time
can't measure us
[contain us]
limit us
at all.

I've been loving you so long now.

The glow of you.

Sunset on your face.

There is no erasing that moment from my mind.

Feet walking,
Old soles, new soles,
In the gravel and up wooden stairs.
Brown knuckles gripping rails.
The dust is kicking up again.
and there is August  sweating down your face,
Gold sun on your forehead and shadows of the willow tree painting pictures on your skin.

There is no wind here.
But [chaos] skirts are moving, hair is swinging, arms are wielding against
a clear blue sky.

A circus of American Flags, men
parading.
I can hear 102 degrees
sweating on the floor.
I hear nothing else at all.

There is silence in this chaos,
all in the glow
[a sunset]
of you.

I saw you today
for the very
frst time.

la première

I cannot fall in love (again)
I cannot see your smile (encore)
feel no more.

I can only look on
to write
these words
in place
of you (a dream)

words to hold
empty spaces
that appear
when you walk away

à demain

...a dream of you
a false hope
of you.
a vision of what could be of you
(and me)

fantasise

I can only look on
to write
these words

to only
fall in love with poetry

vous êtes poésie

in place of
(l'idée de)
you and me.

The Flowers bloom in Spring
and it is evident
That I'm not one of them.

For in the rain,
I drown
and drown
my voice gets muffled and
I can't hear myself speak
think

i know what it's like to be like he.
to be like he who
cannot hear my
desires
and fears

for i haven't strength to
share them
to push them past the
soiled ground.

if flowers come in May,
then I am leaving.

and if you cannot sense my sorrow
i am going.

if you cannot see me
stuck inside
a seed
or hard, raw earth
passion trapped like
an avalanche

then I know you
wouldn't notice
if I bloomed
[a flower]
in front of you.

it just seems like
you've been sweet to me
lately

like those little purple flowers
(weeds)
covered in dew

******* the nectar out
like a hummingbird
(how my heart flutters
when you call me sweetheart,
baby,
it's only words
but they're moving)

words
that are so sweet
to me.

So the fireworks went
off anyway
and there was still yelling in the street

and the ball still dropped
and the night went on.

Firecrackers still went
off without you

without your kiss
and touch
and that weak feeling
in my knees
and gut

and time is going on
anyway
it's moving ahead and
it's harder to hear
your voice in my head

So,
the fireworks went
off anyway.

I broke your heart
with make-up
and song.

with flooding light and
pages and pages of
monologues and
songs to sing
to read
to learn and feel in every
waking moment
(aching, to you).

I broke your heart with passion.
with love
with joy
with tears streaming down my face
and applause.
and encore and encore, encore!
with bow after bow and roses.

I broke your heart with dancing.
with dancing and letting my soul
peek out
to appear
where I cannot see your face
(within a crowd).

I broke your heart with time.
with time i had to juggle
to walk a tight rope on stage.
and put myself in the lion's den
to do what i love
again
and again.

I broke your heart with play.

On the edge where
grey meets blue
and i can trace
the patterns in the sky
with my china fingers
my bony wrist-

on the edge of a cliff
where i can't catch
my balance [breath]
tempted to stand
en pointe
with my china feet
my brittle ankles.

on the edge where
the shore meets the
sand and i can
imagine plunging in
my broken body
right into frosty, metallic waves.

that's the edge of the terminal.
where grey meets blue.
and I can trace
the trail where you walked away
the ghost path [i start to cry]
with my china heart
with my fragile, china goodbye.

There's nothing
in this moment
but the memory of
you
swinging your legs over the bed.

A dream
of linens
with roses
& checkered
cloth on the
kitchen windows.
and your bent knees
swinging over the mattress
dangling over dancing shadows
on
the floors [are
so **** cold in the morning]

But in that moment
[the one before
your toes touch the floor]
[before the frozen death of morning
slaps you
wide awake]
I will watch your
legs swing over the bed

they swing
and swing
they swing and swing
away from me.

It's like I'm the air
inside a canyon
[I mean,
that's the air I breathe]
Like I'm hot, dry
I come gushing around
the corner.

The edge
where
water is supposed to be
used to be
what's supposed to be in a canyon?

If not you
or me.
Or everyone in between.
[Montana
Idaho
Tennessee]

There's nothing
in a canyon,
but this air
[the air I breathe]

If only I hadn't died that day.
in the icy air of
that car

i didn't want to get out in the heat.

you looked so serious
and i felt so alone,
water bottle in hand,
I kept drinking.
If only there had been
more water.
i needed an excuse
to look
away from you.

i wish you'd let go of
my hand.

It's been a year
since your secrets
flooded out
like a dam burst open
like I was hit in
the chest
by a cascade.
like you thought
i could look at you
the same.
like walls of water
destroy nothing
like cities filled with
water
like broken dams
like lies
aren't hard to fix.
I'd like to see you
contain a river of water
and try to stay
afloat.

I don't want you [to leave]
You're so beautiful in this
light
between branches of
fallen trees.
[I saw lightning 3 times
last night
I couldn't help but
wonder,
if your
eyes
saw it too]
Please,

I don't want you [to leave]

to start this other life
away from
me.

[the thunder came out of
nowhere.
And the rain flooded
the streets]

I'll never say a word to you.
I don't want you

to leave.

I see your sunburned
knees
your sunburned shoulders
your skin
[it is too smooth]
it's rough.
And you always
smile
at lavender.
And now,
I curse the lavender.
I curse the hills and valleys
flooded with wild flowers.
and every soft sound
I cannot stand to hear
You burned your knees.
Your skin
[it is too smooth]

A spider crawled out of my
sheets
last night.
I couldn't stop watching it
run.
watching it scurry
The chase of time.

feel the chase of time.

when did I get old?
i know i am too old.
I know that I'm too old
to yell
"Dad! I see a spider!"
I couldn't stop watching it

run.

God,
I am falling.
God,
I'm so blessed,
but I'm falling.
God,
I'm so weak,
as I'm falling.
God,
I can't speak,
but I'm calling.
God,
You're so strong,
I'm unworthy.
God,
It's so long.
Quite a story.
But God,
I can't speak,
hear me calling,
God,
I'm so weak
and I'm falling.

When the words flow from you
it's the sound of a
downpour.
Amazed, I can't look
away.
and the inches of
water
in the street sides
are growing
my mother won't let me go oustide.

I am a child again
in a cardboard
maze
we built with
old boxes
in the alley.
Stepping
over spiders
and puddles
(again,
I love Oregon rain)
screaming like
my lungs had no
        ending.
I'm a child again.
Your eyes.
I know what you are
thinking.
****, I hope
you're thinking.
I'm so ******* crazy.

I haven't got sense.
No sense for you.
In coming and leaving.
in exchanges
the norms.
social behaviors.
I play dumb.

While I want you touch me.
Why do I want you to
touch
me?

I plan the
subtle bend of
my waist
[where's your glance?]
i wait
like the kind of wait
that never stops.

You're the end of my wait
that never stops.

You're so beautiful.

and I'm so fragile.
I'm so cracked
and old
and vulnerable.

I watch the bend of your glance
the corner of your eye.

I watch your wrist
bend
as it waves goodbye.

I haven't got sense at all.

I'm so **** lonely
and you're so
****
smart.

and I can't stop seeing
your face
as a mirror.
**** this house of
mirrors.
They don't make sense at all.

I want to be
strong.
Like those ants
that carry
10 times the weight.
those ants i see
in my kitchen
Climbing up the
cabinets
into the walls,
the itch you feel
with
an ant on your hand.
I do not touch you
          that
      strongly.

you are that tiny
bud, the one about
to bloom.
the one that seems
to be singing
a song
that only I can
hear.
And bees and
birds and
ladybugs
[forget me nots]
nothing can resist you
[here]

But I simply
could not pick you.
Could not take you
from the vine.
Couldn't take you in
my hands
and squeeze and
hold you
all the time.

I couldn't destroy
you
flower
in such a
selfish manner.

you are that tiny
bud
[to watch you]
bloom.

I had a dream there was
a giant
outside my window.
His hair was
made of yarn.

He was walking
And stalking
He did not see me there.

And you were
there
right next to me.
I saw you there
lean close to
me
but the room was dark
it was morning.

Where’d the giant go?

I felt your breath draw near to me
I heard the beast walk near to me
I felt your lips press up to me.
close to me
spontaneously

your lips
they touched so
fervently
so warmly
and so they fell
so softly

I’d cross the giant
To feel
to touch
you
With me
Like that
Again.

The great escape
I long for
the adventure
I dream of.
I suddenly want to go
alone.
leave memories behind
like fallen trees,
a wind storm,
is what it'd be to
you.
The great escape
would break you.

I've only strength
to break
myself,
and let you through the cracks

and cover me.

To feel like crying
wouldn't feel so sad
so hard
and rough

like that cemented road we walk down.

It always took too long
to trollop to the shade

I cannot bear the heat so
you hold up a hand to shelter me.
to block me from the sun.

and
I only remember blackberries
and those little white flowers
that always overgrow the path.

Tell me how you do it,
tell me how you can overgrow
overpower
fade
a rolling path
of memories.

To feel like crying wouldn't be so sad.

It's Autumn and I remember
your hands
the way they held, and hold,
always will hold me.
The way they ran against
my spine.
bump bump bump.
It's Autumn and it feels like
forever
[your eyes]
and their icy darkness
that saw me.

Everything says yes
when I'm with you.
and there isn't a sunset that
tells me to
slow down.
Or a sunrise that knows
more than I
about you.

It's Autumn and
Every bird could sing for me
and it's only yes,
it's only yes
with you.

The moon spins and nods to me.
It pushes the waves
pushes you onwards towards me.

It's Autumn and
everything says yes
with
you.

Waves of troubled blue
wash over
me.
I sold my guitar
6 weeks ago.
I gave away my favorite pair of
heels.
I cut my hair
and closed my eyes
and felt comfort in the teal.

I bought a dress;
it's see-through.
I've only worn it once.
On the day I tried to see my father,
but became the victim of
resistance.

I haven't seen my dad in far too long.

And I haven't stepped outside the waves.
Even though they swallow me up
and choke me whole,
singing
sea foam to the grave.

I take pictures of myself a lot.
Of my hands,
my legs,
     my feet.
I'm on a rock
and there's
  a storm,
brutally
   rocking
  me.

How waves of blue've
washed over me.

Reflection people,
Shadow people,
I've tendencies
to
watch
all people.