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 . . .

I love all parts of you just as I love you as a whole.

Your eyes are not your eyes.
        They are nets for light,
                catch-all-that-catch-can,
                and catch they do.

Your nose is not a nose.
        It is line and curve
                in your silhouette;
        Immediately recognizable
                and just as soon loved.

Your skin is not skin.
        It is flat and rolling prairie.
        It is not porcelain, but pocked,
                scarred and lovely.
        Sand on the beach that begs to be touched.

Your hair is not hair.
        It is thick forest
                Dark and deep.
        When I run my fingers through,
                I cannot help the rush of comfort.

Your legs are not legs,
        They are crooked columns
                of tendon and muscle,
                    cartilage and bone.
        They carry you to me.

Your arms are not arms.
        They are air.
        Strong as wind when wrapped around,
                and soft as a breeze when alighting on skin.

Your torso is not a torso.
        It is a trunk.
        Solid and beautiful.
        You are my tree and I lean against you.

Your mouth is not a mouth.
        It is a cave,
        Dark but warm
                and full of secrets.

Your hands are not hands.
        They are mirror twins,
                Machines that create and destroy.

And the ring on your finger is not a ring.
        It is the invisible oath;
        the promise that hangs in the air
                   and binds you to me.

I shouldn't have to apologize
For simply being me
Yet the words
"I'm sorry"
Seem to spill from my mouth
As easily as a friendly
"Hello".