Nothing is as beautiful as the transformation of the human face.
The journey of a smile as it licks at the lips and dances into the eyes.
The adventure of laughter as it opens the mouth and tickles the throat.
The reclusiveness of sadness as it travels down the cheeks and wets them with tears.
The intensity of concentration as it furrows the brow and quickens the breath.
The turmoil of fear as it flares the nostrils and grinds the teeth.
The restfulness of sleep as it closes the eyelids and brings relief.

there's a lot of holes in my life
for example

my waist takes as little space as possible;
a curve is formed in each side
in order to be fitted by
somebody's hands

and i would like them to be your hands

between every bone of my spine
there's a little pause pretending to shape
a path long enough to be toured by
somebody's fingers

and i would like them to be your fingers

when i stretch my neck i find
angles in my collarbones
a piece of architecture to be traced by
somebody's mouth

and i would like it to be your mouth

but your hands hold the curves of other waist
and your fingers wander other road
and your mouth traces the lines of other architecture

and i have all of these holes

and there's a hole in my bed
and i would like to have two

A persons greatest enemy is his mouth, but there is no sharper sword than the tongue. Master it and it will be your greatest ally

you and i
were made by satan,
doomed since we were born,
destined to go to hell.
you will burn holes
in my skin with your mouth,
and i will not
extinguish the flames
on my skin,
demons are impatiently
waiting for our arrival
after death.

Downy flowing dripping
That metallic taste in my mouth
I knew there was something wrong
with me before I knew
what it was
I still don't know exactly
But I do know for sure
when I step into a room
no one looks to the door

As I'm writing this
all I'm thinking of are the pauses
between your words when you stop to wet your
mouth with the disregard of others'
thoughts.
I think of the pauses the people on tv take
They've made those silent but how they shape our lives has become Louder

The pauses in my sister's words are deliberate. because she
can not speak toofast    t o o  f a r   too out of hand
about the things she cares for.
Her words are Broken by the slow sounds of
A mouth closing and
opening others to her opinions closing
them to their own.

I hear my mouth
I hear the way breath skids over my lips like a body being dragged
behind an old pickup.
I hear my mouth make wet noises and
I ask myself how to be dryer
I ask myself why I breathe like I do
because my Living isn't supposed to be a statement.
My life isn't supposed to interrupt
anyone else's.

All I'm thinking of
is that your pauses
interrupt my life.

What I see is
imperfection
in the eyes of
Elevator.

John is sleeping.
John is kicking the ball.

Dear Papa,
why the cosmos is
the cosmos.
The reverence shines through
my hole.

The whole swimming pool was left in the ocean.

Dear Papa,
please tell me how to
have
sand.

Your kisses,
               touched me.
                            Your touches,
                                              released me.
*Release me

Action may speak louder then words but words can inspire action.
I wonder which is more powerful?
I say words; for words can be spoken by the weak to defeat the strong, the happy to lift up the sad  
But no one ever heard of the week overcoming the strong by strength alone  nor the sword bring happiness to the sad.
But then again is not speaking an action? sometimes speaking out is the hardest thing . . .