There's so much to do, so much to say
But words always get in the way
Restricting the meaning, the true emotion
Showing the anger, hiding the devotion

It's a strange thing, a cause of distress
How words are the reason we can't really express
A fake freedom granted, without an end
Restricting any chance to actually comprehend

I want to tell you so many things
Words, that only happiness bring
There is still so much left to say
But, words always get in the way

Far, far afield--the averages of distances
are sought after.
Seer, hearer, feeler likened to what feet
fail now...as a body parodies its mind
unknowingly.
This chased relationship... headless chicken's
nocturne.


Konstantinos Mark

a body.
a boy.
a bottle
a bed.
a loss.

a boy.
a bottle.
the bed.
my body

a loss.

i peed in the attic because the stairs creaked
and your roommates were asleep

your hair licked your earlobes
and your mouth was rough

I like talking to you about the weather
because you are far enough away
for it to always be different
from me,
yet close enough so that
what was once yours,
slowly becomes mine.

Dark floats out into the silence
Crashing on the banks of Prometheus's wings
Opening a velvet-silk curtain.
To a fabric of shadowed stars
Cloudy fingers sew it clean
While invisible hands stitch pearls back in.
A ghost flits on the hallway stair
Reaching for the last shafts of sun
Tumbling off a silent dream
Blind as black with a lullaby hum
Filling the gaps in an empty line
Somewhere between dusk and dawn.