There are days
where I have
passion

where love I never
felt
or thought real
finally exists

and the sun can shine
or it can hide behind
a field of rolling
clouds

and the darkest of nights
can cover me,
even slowly,
if it must, and keep me longer
if it must
it can keep my eyes
closed against a cold
mask of stars,
if it must

I've learned that in a
globe, so small
my deepest soul
is free.

There you were
at the end
of my driveway
your bright red
hat against
September's
fog of sunrise

There you were
as you as
ever
waiting with
your hands
shoved in your
pockets

And there I was.
totally
in love
with you-
my gloves and scarves and clothes
hiding my
feelings

so I'll go to
the farm with you.
I'll walk the muddy
apple lines
with you
and I'll pretend it
doesn't hurt me
when
you do not
say my name

and later,
when the LP is on
and the cider's on my stove-
and the dogs are running,
and your body is
pressing mine
I'll hold my breath
as to not tell
you
I love you
ceaselessly

hold me for
another
moment
and remind me
we're just
friends.

I'm digging through
buckets of sea glass and
agates
I found on the
beach
prying them out of the bitter, cold
sand,
          -  that ends at
white lines -
and concrete

The wind's in my face
and it's a furious hunt
to the point where I almost can't
   breathe

I'm on a continuous search
my knees caked in
dirt

seeking
     la joie  
           de
                vivre.

The landscape that I see is so
revealing

And it tells the tale
of you and I

the hills, the slopes, the mountain tops,
where passion meets the sky

I've never known the sun could set like yours.

I am brought to you
in my dreams
again tonight.
Why does your ghost choose to haunt me
in a way I can't control?
in a way I can't escape?
in a way I do not wish to go
a path I couldn't choose to break

and **** the stones you stand on!

**** the stones beneath you.

You're the ghost;
and haunted, strucken, disturbed
I have fallen
beneath you.

beneath the vision of my
memories of you

It's true
I belong to the death of you.

and where is my escape!?

I cannot bear the thought
[tonight]
of seeing you again,

seeing your shadows inside of my head
when materially
eternally
It's clear to see
you're perished to me
to everywhere we have and have not been.

but I bring myself to you again.

When I look at her face,
a small child who is "she"
  and it's clear she has no
idea of stale ideals that block her
path

You are a small angel, and
you're unaware of trails that look like gold

There is truth: they are just gift-wrapped.
hiding "be polite.
"don't sit like that.
"cross your legs.

Here is your truth: You are not small. You are full of magic and there is no path that you don't own.

You would give the
world for me
satin sheets
coffee,
forest black
like a 3 am
night

You would give the
world for me
you'd hold me
in your arms
and sway
to
the summer's wind

the world for me,
I know it
diamonds on my
wrist and
my stomach's
always full

but if you
gave the world
for me
I'd be trapped inside
a globe.

I thought that
reaching out my hand from
  black coats and layers
that
slipping off a glove to
let my fingers out
to feel you
would
make
you
feel
me
too.

I hope that when
you're with her
and when her eyes
shine like
brighter days

that the smell of my
shampoo
lingers in your
senses
and that my touch
comes to mind

I'll wait every day
and I'll pretend that
I don't care that
you're running back to her

and I'll tell myself
it doesn't
matter,
and I'll still answer
your call

and when the thick, burlap
hotel
curtains are
stagnant
and the AC's pumped
to full

I'll let your fire consume me
and then watch you go
back to her.

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.

I look into my
self to see what
I can find
my golden hands
cannot hold
still
clinging as they
dig

I want to fall
I want to fall so quickly
without time
to think

my hands are made of gold
and I am trying to look
within
but there is nothing left
inside of me
in gold I've
been set free

I wore the earrings you
gave me
that used to be
  yours

in the photos I took that
you'd never see

and I had my hair pushed
back
the way that you used to
before you ceased to
be

I leaned against the hills
that night
chilly in the breeze

and thought about
your bony hands
  and all the memories

The first time
that I
saw you
I was scared and wild
I loved you
for your
anger
as rebellious as a child

You showed
me that
love exists
(but also, love's deceit)
in the laughter
of the moon
and the kiss of
your bedsheets

the violin
goes on
as I hear it
play our song
where you
and I
danced in meadows
and I could do no wrong

But winter
comes when
I close my eyes,
the seasons always go
and when
I find
the strength
to open them,
I see eternal snow.

But even if
I knew
that we would
find lover's demise
I would have
loved you
anyway
even though I sensed goodbye.

I'm trying to be
a better person
but it's hard when
you're so
beautiful

and
it's hard when the night is cold
and I am wasteful

and when I thirst for
everything
how others thirst for
sedentariness

I'm not sure if
it's natural to
be good
but I want it oh
so bad.

The trees are
quietly
changing
with the
turn table's slow
rotation
and
Autumn's tapping
on the window
sill again
"let me in, my
dear.
Forget about the summer
sun who wilt your
pretty petals..."

as the morning chill
is taking
over and
I wake consumed by
my grand
duvet,
I know each day
is further now
from you.

I don't want to be in love anymore.

It's like we're back to back
where I cannot see your
face
and I almost can't remember
what it
looks
like

and I reach behind to touch you but my arms don't
bend that way

It's like we're back to back but
you're also fading
into
grey.

When I've been on my own
in a park where the sun is finally
starting to warm my arms
and I  can see the veil of grief-chill
pulling back, about to reveal her
cities and her sidewalks
built in dirt

And I'm miles into the run
   of things
and I'm even further into my own head:

I'm sure that there are other runners
out there
who wish they
       could also
run from the dead.

I'm sure it's predictable by now, the starts
& stops, the usual way of speaking
like ink is coming out of my eyes,
your eyes,
every opening

     let's close them.

Too much velvet, too much smoke - too much love, it's love, it's always love. It's too much, we get it!!

I can't stop writing about flowers
   but I never go deep? Too
clever. Too witty. Too descriptive. too pretty.

I won't do it and wild roses will stay
a simple vision in passing, with nothing else thought to be said
in our
absence.

Sometimes I think I am
halfway done
a little raw
inside the heart of
my
self

I stand in galleries
in large, track-lit halls
  and look at the art-
   in which
I do not relate
and I can feel my cramped
foot inside
my little shoes
that I bought
because they're
red and I want
to stand out too

I think I'm half way
done-
embarrassed and
  a little pink,
but still hot from
your flame.

I found the moon

hidden behind the pines
behind the chirping crickets
legs as black as night

behind tear filled eyes
and ***** windows
sharing light with
victims and with widows.

I found the moon, I did.

I found it hanging over a chair
still pushing you and me
and endless waves
endless waves of grief.

So it's midnight
and the tv's
on
the electronic
glow of
people on,
I'm ignoring words
and sounds

It's midnight
and the cake is
gone
my birthday
cake with
pink and
purple
sugar frosting,
metal fork on scratchy plate
in the quiet dark where
I celebrate behind
its veil

It's midnight
and the candle's
done
consumed by
heat and black
a river of smoke
and I'm ten again
you're my friend again
and I'm able to love without end,
again

It's midnight and I'm a year older
and you're a year
further behind.

Where are you
now?

dancing in
obsidian oblivion
or on the
surface of a
star

or maybe on the
moon,
(I know you
always wanted
to go
there)

Heaven exists
and
you live there.

you're dancing
and letting the music
take your soul
(please, please take my soul too)
where you're the light.

you're the light.

My God,
you are the light
and wherever you
go
I swear that
I'll go  
for you

so I will meet you
beyond earth
and stars
and moons
and anywhere that you might be

a week ago you
died
and
so
Heaven,
it is,
for me.

What do you do when it's
unending love?
When it's everything you've ever
dreamed that it
was

and the romance
is growing
the loneliness
slowing
and a glance is completely
enough?

What do you do when it's
downright desire
and you're held in the line
of your lover's hot fire

and the passion's
invading
seclusion is
fading
each birdsong is a
lover's choir?

How do I tell him that
he is above
that he's sweet and he's darling
and more than enough

without
offending
that my worship's
unending
and that I'm so
helplessly
in love.

Don't worry,

I've been here before,

lying in canopies
of 'where'd you go' and
'what have I done?"

I'm not immune to love-fall
or love-hope
   or even the fall-out -

and there's no
modesty to my
afflictions

don't worry,
I've been here before
and I'm not willing
   to
     wait
       in
          hesitation.

Silver walls
a house of mirrors
fingers gripped
on your chipped
china sink

the tile is cold
and I can't find my shoes
from
last night

Where were you when
I hit the wall
and fell into cascading
black?

my knuckles
white and my
chest, heaving
and when I look into
the mirror
my cheeks are
stained, ebony
and rouge

Why can't I hold on?

You're trauma.
Memories, flooding
into places that
usually do not
fill, have not been
full before
You're my pain
my hope
my little faith who is-
n't so small, ignored
at all

You're a warped record,
a broken pew-
a longing to be held
in the coldest of
nights by the
history of arms in
me

You're my religion
and you could hear it
if you opened your
wings,
lay your sorrows down,
your bible down,
the holy ashes of
Wednesday
down

You're my country- my baptism,
so let the waters flood you
too

I don't know what to do
when nights are
never-ending
like tonight

there's something about
a black sky
that makes me restless
makes me think of you

a black sky
that's weighing heavily
on me
and pressing me down
into fits of rage

a hole,
so deep
that I can hardly see that funnel of light,
dripping down
to touch my
outreaching
hand

that's your love
that's your love
that I don't have
and want and need
and ache for
like a bee must search for flowers

honeycomb and fits of midnight rage

I had to shut the
windows
because the summer
air was hot
and dry
and memories of
southern Oregon
deluged my mind

where I was in the
dale with you
the grassy
wheat stained
vale with you
and your hand held up
every hope of youth's
crusade

A part of me
will always be there
drinking honeyed
lemonade

As your
bedsheets
rise and fall
and your heart is
skipping beats
you're not
lying here

and I'm not
watching you
slowly make
your way to
the pearly gates
clutching onto
your robes

When your eyes are closed
you're in a field
somewhere
leaning on your
old red car
or drawing a charcoal
deer across
the way,
sketching in her
eyes with lead
devotion

with each
rise and fall
you're mimicking
the sun and moon
and you're alive
in every field
in every mountain
in every patch of
dandelions
that I gave you,
as a child

as your bedsheets
rise and fall
and your body's
shutting down
and you don't see me
and
I don't see you

know that I
will take your hand.
I will hold your bony
fingers and
squeeze your
frightened wings

and guide you
into every
meadow,
every pasture,
every field of
splendent gold
that you
ever hoped to
live in.

I'm not going to stop loving you,
even though everything feels like it's
  glass

and I'm watching where my little
hands touch
and where I catch and lose
my breath

I'm not going to stop loving you-
even though I've never been angry
             like this

where you're transforming paths to
hope springs and pinnacles
and my bag's too weighted full of
envy to
carry to the top

I can't bear the weight.

I'm not going to stop loving you
  or staring into glass.

Outside,
there's a horror
show,
the night is black
and without you

I am lonely.

I imagine you've
forgotten me
or
decided
to leave me
behind

but even though,
Darling,
this fog is stifling
and the black
silhouette of
night-trees
crowds the
quiet, distant
sky,

inside the doors with you
I've found
safety, the gingered
touch of reticent freedom and
I love,
I love you so.

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.

I forgot how
blue it was
in autumn

when trees are
orange
and the hills
are straw
are dry
an indian summer
has gone by
and left its purple
bruise

I forgot how
the fog
kisses the cliffs
and how
it feels
to be with you.

We drove up the
  switchbacks-
one lane,
  gravel,
   up the mountain
side

and on the edge of the
cliff
where the ground meets the
sky, an infinity
pool as
bare and as dry as
  depression

it's ugly
and it's not clean
  at all

and it's a drop-off to the bottom that I'm
afraid to
hit

-but only for fear of falling,
    not for fear of
        not existing.

I don't want to be
hungry
anymore

always starving for some-
thing
to fill
the void

I'm floating like the
moon
in the great, vast
chalky black of
empty

I don't want to be
hungry,
    anymore or
floating in the
night.

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.

Today's the day
I fall apart
below the
lies I told
to find a
better way

where bands
of blue
are blazing
and I am
unafraid

& love exists
beneath
you
and in every inch
of soul
you give to me

The Christmas lights
are burning
by six
candles
lit for you

and my
cloche hat
is hung to dry
because it
rained so hard
last night

and at the end of the night
I'm taking off gold jewelry
my silver too
and I am putting them in an
old nickel jar
with the face of a cat
that you gave me

The Christmas tree
is glowing
and the tea kettle
is heating

and the cat
is slowly
lapping
off the
dirt of
other days

and it's the end of the night
where I'm
reading a poem
where you told me
that you wished that
you could fly
and that I
was so much more
than my porcelain
frame

At the end of the night
I believe you
and I miss you just
the same.

And there beyond
what I've done right
or wrong
a field escapes
monotony and
turns into a pond
where crickets chirp
and grasses grow
and water carries
swans
and when I see the
bayou's glow
I know that I belong.

I want to be
the paint on
a canvas
exist where brush meets color
where wrist
tickles
canvas
I want to exist in
a field
of flowers
where the light
is just deceiving
and where nothing
exists
everything exists
it's where I want all of me
to exist,
I belong inside a painting.

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 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.