Suppressed recollections
play upon the strings of my impressions,
that are fractured confirmations
of where my mind is flowing,
                             upwards
to the vault of all my beginnings.

There is a stalk that wonders aimlessly
within the crevasses of all that flows,
sustaining on the occasions that were
never meant to be its leaves deprived
of all worthwhile emotions.

Separate from what weaves above,
a solitary refection whispers against
the tide of the beginnings, floating with
the progressive clear thought.

I search my reflection        
Which I suppose represents my emotion
In turn a darkness stares back at me
I see a stranger, who looks like me
Grumpy without a hint of a smile
Only anger and bitterness is willing to shine
Refusing to reconcile with my siblings
Thinking they are absurd with they own living
Yet...
While my most hurtful feelings are being expressed their determination ,shows me lam being heard.  
Now m left with these Mixed emotions which don't appear in my refection
Who am ?
Stranger wispered
I am the me you will never get to be!

You transformed my freckled neck

Into a strawberry field

Last night
Transplanting puckered lips
Into planting pink rosy kisses
Across my skin
And down my chest
Like
Cherry blossom petals that

We picked

Because we  
Just don't believe that they could be
Anything more
That how they feel right now

Its too inconceivable for us
Its too contrived   


I mean
Its like
Trying to grow candy apple love
In greenhouses
Or just houses 

Painted green
With synthetic sunbeams
And pesticide ridden wishing seeds
Planted with high doses of expectations
And fertilized by things like
Movie Scripted
Kissing in the rain

And all the other high fructose corn-syrup cliches
That only let you come down
When your brain washed loving
Is washed from lusting
Trusting only the sunlight
Rising in the morning
On a clear day
Because thats when you can see
Whats real and fake

But it doesn't matter

Because we just don't believe in things like that
Its to synthetic
For starry eyes filled with falling satellites
When its still too cold for sunshine


So we
Just believe in things like
Twisting our tongues 
for the fun
Of seeing
How quickly we come undone
When we touch

And breathing

Out then in and in again
Breathing uneven breathes
Into each others mouths
To feel what its like
To come to life
Then let it go again

And we always
Always
Color outside
The rib cage lines

(and heres why)

Because ribs
Keep people out of our hearts

And cages
Keep us out of their

And lines
*******

Lines are for strictly straight people
Who can only see one side to everything
And everyone
Knows
Rules were meant to be broken
And lines were meant to be crossed

Cross eyed
Crooked teeth

That can never be bent back straight
Or scraped pearly clean of
Imperfection
Because they are already
In perfection
Everyone is just too blinded
From staring into the sun
To see it right now

But tonight
Tonight
We are two crooked lines
In a foreign vineyards of twisted grape vines

Fermenting into a wine sweeter than our lips
And we fit
Together
Like two broken puzzle pieces
That wont ever complete each other
And you know what

That's ok

You are not my missing piece
And I am not yours
Because we are not
Puzzles
We are people
And puzzles are just broken paintings
To be put back together
And we are not broken
There’s no completion left

To who we are
We are infinite
Never ending in our potential
Never lacking in what's essential
All we are doing is adding colors
To each other

And tonight
You color me inside out

Crossing every line on my skin
With you paint brush lips
Like strawberry red rows of
Red wine
Dipped lips
Planting painted
Red lipstick kisses
In each others mouths
The way
Sweet-bay Magnolia petals
Are pictured in puddles
When they look down
Seeing their own refection
And letting themselves fall
Getting bruised by the gravel
We are each both petals and pavement
When we fall into each other
Tonight
And I remember one night
A while ago
We found an old telescope
Made out of plastic
With this incredibly inaccurate scope
That focused in sudden little jults
And it took us forever to find the moon
But when we did
And zoomed in
With one eye squinted
You
Looked up
To the night sky
And I
Have never seen anything like

The way the moon filled your eyes with stars
After you peered into each others faces


All the way across the atmospheric dimension
Sendings whispered apprehensions  

Of a pretentious existences into each others eyes
Every line had a wink at the end
And every wink had
A sly smile in between the chimney and the roof

So heres a little truth

Sometimes I wish that we
Could telescope each others sunsets
And find our own sunrises in each others eyes
Behind every blink
Orbiting

Fixed fastly to this axis
Through outer space time lapsing
Across boarder lines
Even though 
I know
We already beam every time we see each other
Like spring sunshine on icicles dripping drops down to
Oil spilled rainbows

We bowed our selves

From the glowing belly
Of our laughter induced paintings
Coloring waves of light
Overlapping though space

Traveling
Faster than the speed of sound
In our own directions
But our travels are soundly set
To inter-exist in this second
And I dont want to let go yet

But I will
Because we cant believe in things like this
It too much risk  to trust the
Daffodils blooming in the brisk
Frosty March mornings
Between bits of icy earth

So we pick them
And put them in little jars with stones
In our kitchen
And smile every time we walk by
I dont even really know why actually
I guess

They are just so pretty
And they smell nice too

Right next to the stems of
The white cherry blossoms
Which bend across our wooden window sill
Next to our sudsy little sink
And we know
That they wont grow anymore
After this
That this is their only glimmer
Of existence
So we hold them close
But time alway slip through our finger tips
Letting go
Of what we cant hold on to
Pulled farther apart
And I havent seen you 
In a while

The other night

I tried to telescope your eyes
Across boarded boarder lines
But I couldn't find you in the skies
And the moon only winked in my direction
Leaving me

To plant wishing seeds

In the ashes of 

Every wished on fallen satellite
I could find
Grown
In green houses

When its still to cold for sunshine
On a clear day
I still wish
That maybe
After
You’ve cleared away all the dead daffodils
From our dusty windowsill
And planted a orchard of candy apples
In the ribs of your new lover

That it will still make you smile
Every time you see
Sweet-bay magnolia petals bruised by gravel
And it reminds you of me


                                    The End.

I look in to the mirror of
tomorrow, and see what
my future self is like, a
moment to see what has
shaped my life.

To see those moments that
made me young with a smile
spread across my face, but
the moments that aged me
for longer that what youth got back.

I look at my reflection of a
future me, and its me really
looking back at my youth
remembering what I was like.

Those moments I cant change
like my refection as glimpse of
a past a future moments, which
cant change just a refection
of my life.

Bottom of the bottle,
end of the ninth.
Come out darkness
      into the light
Trying to find out what is right
kiss me kiss me kiss me
make you miss me.
Your messages are coming through
      but I'm switching channels.
I think I'm holding the remote,
but the pain is like a moat.
Nobody's getting to me
      (nobody nobody nobody nobody)
Not 'til I say it's to be.
I hold out for hope I'll catch you soon
Lord knows I've killed myself
       enough for the chance.
Once you found a needle in your shirt,
it became the knife in my back.
You wanted me angry, spiteful, violent
      (it would've made it easier for you)
You didn't expect my kiss.
       my love, my amorous feelings, my admiration
      longing and heartbreak.
You broke my heart in place
But I was the one who walked away.

In this place where we lived there were
no doors, every room had a mirror.
            A reflection of what was, is.

And each was unique to the observation
that was seen beyond the tinted
                                            frame of creation.

                  Some places were, could be,
not a complete reflection of what was
contorted and beyond the conciseness
                                           of tangibility.

For some places were either hairline fractured,
on purpose or by mistake, most of these had
                                                                ­ warnings.
            
                         "REALITY DERUTCARF RETNE TON OD,

All who entered these were doing so at there
                                         own health and life..

Some did it for the buzz,  some weren't lucky..
         The Mirror Collective,
that's a posh word for reflective reconstitutes.

Ladies and gents that fixed the flaws,
                         fragmented reflections that
could lead to either two version of reality..

An obituary of an abattoir,  
where the breaks even though hairline
were like papercuts on the flesh.
                   And where they stood is where
the pieces collected upon each other..

Some rooms were purposely fractured,
           for those who broke the rules
were kept in shard rooms..
     These were places where others of less
reputable reflections were kept.


                             Solitary confinement,
there was just a jagged piece of mirror left,
enough space for a paper plate to be left.
Once there sentence was completed  
           The mirror collective would be called
to reconstitute the whole mirror..

If they were of sound constitution, not mad...
          
Then they were reintegrated in to the society..
                                  What they didn't realise is
the lights of different frequencies
were purposely shone within there room.
            Nearly all were unseen to the eye,
but were used to program them,
sublimely to have a more compatible persona.  

Me I wants like those others, my reflection was
                  always polished. I would enter
a reflection and be the person who'd stepped
through a moment before.

We were a society mirrored on the refection
that everything was meant to be perfect.

         But what we didn't realise that
every refection is distorted no matter how
                              perfect we think it is.

And the perfection we looked upon,
             was cracked beyond our contemplation.
We were just slaves to the mirror of our own
                                                                ­              egos..



But what ever you do don't look at the refection
staring behind you,
                        you looked....

                                                     ­          I'm sorry.....

Sister Elizabeth looks
out of window. No mirror.
Self unseen. Image only

Imagined.  Pushes window
Outward, breathes air,
morning fresh, birdsong

From mulberry tree, old
still there. The cloister
Below, the red brick, arches,

Walls, no nun in sight.
At Matins eyes hard to
keep open, stifled yawns,

Chanted from memory, Latin
Words on page a dull blur.
Wonder how father is?

Aged now, pains most days.
She sniffs the air, breathes
in, tastes fresh air on tongue.

She places a hand behind
the pane of glass of window.
Her refection seen there.

Sin of sin. Vanity of vanities.
She looks at her refection.
Seen. Takes her hand away.

Makes sign of the cross.  
Bell tolls. Bell tower across
the way. Who rings? Which

Sister? Lauds soon. Chants
And prayers. She fingers her
cowl, brushes nose, eyelids.

She looks away from window.
Cell tidy. Books put in shelves.
Crucifix on wall above bed.

Wooden and aged. Plaster
Christ, pinned by small nails
through hands. Mother bought

Her her first rosary. White, small,
silver cross and Christ. Mother
taught to say rosary. Word for

Word. Mother cancer eaten.
Prayers offered. She moves to
the door, goes out. Passageway

Clear. None is there. She closes
her cell door. Puts hands away
In her black habit. Walks, muses,

Silent prayers. Down the stairs,
as taught, slow but careful, not
to rush, no running.  Into the

Cloister, morning sunlight touches
cloister wall and floor. Flowers
in flower bed by cloister wall,

Well tended, watered. Fingers
Rosary, thumb over the body
of Christ, rubs, smooth with

Rubbing. Goes by the refectory
door, smells of coffee, warm
Bread. On by the stairs to upper

Landings. Sister Francis by cloister
wall eyes closed, lips moving,
hands together. passes by, notes

White hands, fingers touching.
Smell of incense from church,
enters, fingers stoup, holy water,

Touches forehead, makes sign
Of Christ, moves into church,
genuflects, enters choir stalls,

Takes place. Stands till closes
Eyes, sees the image of herself
In window mirror reflected face.

I was very cautious
I knew if I wasn't what it would cost us
I made sure the bedroom was perfect
I wanted MY romantic affect
I hung the plastic, then the curtains
Bed exactly in the middle, I had to be certain
Lit a few candles
Then sliped on my dress, and my sandals

I cruise the street
For my baby to meet
I pick him up at the corner
My heart beats faster, my body warmer
We go back to my house
Where we start to mess about
I lead you to my bedroom
We'll be making love soon

To my bed you are shackled
You have no idea of my feeling of hackles
Straddling you, and ridding you like a horse
All the wail your loving it of course

With you still in me, I bring out my toys
They are only for my collection of boys

They are bright and shiny
I will not treat you kindly
They are so sharp they can split a hair
And in their refection you just stare
You can't believe what you see
As the look on my face is pure glee

You body starts to convulse and thrash
Then with my blades I start to slash
I plunge my toy in
With the evilest grin
I love the squirting gushing sound
It's all so profound

I have loved all my men
That's why I let no one chase  them
Forever in death they are mine
I'm one of a kind

I slash him to ribbons
It's as fun as the dickens
He's still alive
And feels every vibe
Covered in blood
Our bodies fit like a glove

I slowly climb off top
And lop of his part
Blood sprays the room
Death will be here soon

I'm so happy I made it romantic
And taped up the plastic
I'm the Black Spider
I **** all I desire

When I look into the mirror,
I see a girl with high hopes, yet broken dreams-
A girl who hides behind a mask,
which deems to be happy and sane.
But underneath,
a small girl lays.
Frantically giggling at the mess of her refection.
She stares with innocent eyes
and a smirk on her face and mouths
failure
dragging me into the mirror, she waltzes around my feeble body
chanting in circles
failure, failure, failure
each time getting louder
failure
she steps closer
failure
she grips my shoulder and laughs into my ear
failure
shivers run up my spine
I know it's true
the lights go black leaving me with the cacophony of silence
the word still lingering in my mind
failure