so hard to comprehend if you
can truly be loved as you are
or we simply use each other
like Seurat used light
the jukebox of desire plugged-in
it keeps turning reality against itself

sometimes  I am dreaming, feeling
crying, laughing too much
I know.
I keep looking at the world
with the terror of being alive
with a look that exhausts love
itself

what if contradiction is the mother
of progression?

My home sits atop a lonely wave
Basking in the sun
My home of flora and sturdy nave
Of which I am a nun

Lilies grow in white quartets
Jasmine from every crevice  
Spiders sew their thoughtful nets
Dust on every surface

Here my pilgrimage ends
At the waistline of the coast
The lemons that became my friends
Will now observe my ghost

I started isolating
Myself, used to
Say everything
I was feeling
But then I guess
I just stopped
I wanted them to
Love me for who
They thought
I was
And not who I felt
Myself becoming

Ever think about
How horrified the
People we loved
Would be if they
Found out who
We really are?
So we dig deeper
Into our lies everyday
Ultimately hurting
The only
People who
Are brave enough
To love us
Wish I was
Brave enough to
Love them back

We don't have
As much time
As we think

in the stillness where critical thinking dies,
and your heart wins over, what silence
do you **** to make room for love?

is it the white noise of a nap
that leaves you groggy, pillow wettened
and intimately familiar with
your cheekbones?

is it the satisfaction of a fast food order
that exceeds your want for grease
with deliciousness and clean hands?

is it the feeling
of a project completed,
a pat on the back,
and the firm touch
of another capable human being?

i say it's everything
and nothing,
all that is below
and remains beneath
reach and understanding.

pervasive kindness is rare
yet attainable,
and i aim for it,
not just in pursuit of romance,
but to be happy and free.

Our love is a castle

and

I was your queen.