Letters left me last June
and I soon found myself sticking my finger into the flame
and even touching fire I still don't feel that spark
It's not the same.
It's not the same.
So I stick my head, my shoulders, and my name
into fire.
But still
No desire.

When I was seventeen
I was content with marriage.

I am more afraid of commitment
when we do not acknowledge it.

Do not go blindly into
this night.

Tell me where we are going.
I turn my high beams on
when I drive the freeway.

What are you doing eleven months from now?
I want to take you on a destination wedding to
the seventh circle of my
mind.

the father, the father, the creation—

the sin
the sun
the son

One day you will bleed

we got along so well but
but this is the final thing we will agree on:

even i am surprised at how
how softly i can let you go

you did not fill the hole
you were the hole

I don't know what I want but—
I know I don't have it.

I dream of you, but
I do not day dream of you, and
That is a step in the left
Direction.

I could listen to this voice for decades.


I think I will.

when you took him out
from under my wing
and into the air
and into the lightning

you turn around
and my eyes
traverse your spine.
your love touches
mine. life is fine.
life is fine.

i can't let go of the past if i am surrounded in it—
watching the old and blowing off the new.
From second to seventh, all i can recall has left me
counting months until it means something

I want to find you at three in the morning again

I want to know if you've kissed another girl's skin

*I want to know that I taste better

Laying down and letting the sadness
consume you
Wrap
around you and slip
into your throat
like the lover you let
into your lungs
like breath

I would drop the world for you
I would drop the world for you
and I have

I  miss  the  way  you
(didn't)
talk          to          me.

white was always my favorite color

(i used to remember you


i remember when
you used to breathe)
     but i never wanted
to taste it,
no