Walls carved into stone.
The godly shapes repulsing
stars further from sky.

Vividly pale sunsets,
Houses lined up in a row,
The wind howls on the beach,
The pacific northwest,
My home,
The tide rising and lowering,
The smell of a campfire that once burned so bright,
Smoke still in the air,

Pastel sunrises that I'll never forget.
I miss this.

There is a bay on the Oregon coast,
Shaped like a scallop shell
And ringed by rounded stones.
And from the darkening sky
Droop billows of blue and gray
Hanging and lit like Chinese lanterns.
Humans in the damp Northwest
Appear to drip from the clouds
In rain-washed colors
Of blue and violet,
Whose tattered clothes
Are softened and soaked
From ragged wool into rich satin.
Still others bask on shores
Of pebbles rolled by the sea,
Bone white and cloud-gray.
Down and up, down again
The light rays vault,
Painting bipeds into the land.
There are no reflections
But rather water in the air,
Looking like rain
Even on cloudless days.
Their world is saturated
Like the scarlet gowns
Of Waterhouse’s Ariadne
And the ponds of Monet,
Green as the British Isles,
Blue as the Aegean
And white as the Pantheon ruins .
Much like an ancient tomb,
The majesty of mortal lives
Commemorated in stone
Is here splashed in the air
And in every forest or cliff.
Hushing people into silence,
So they conduct the most
Serious customs in whispers,
Knowing how voices echo along
Water droplets
And mountain shadows.

The creak of a door,
A sliver of light
Slips and illuminates the evergreen tops.

A sigh of relief echoes between our two walls.
I hear the flick of a lighter.
An orange glow appears.
Floating about an arms length away from a dark shadow mostly hidden
behind the evergreens i always complain of.

We end up mimicking each others actions
Swimmers in a line,
Diving in at the same time.
Synchronizing the timing of raising
our separate cigarettes to
our separate lips,

It’s a small solace,
Two strangers, simultaneously trying to **** themselves just a bit quicker
The only form of intimacy we know at this point in life.

Ash, take a drag, ash, take a drag
Rinse and repeat
The wash cycle is almost over
We puff away together
Until one of us tires or hits the ****.

I once again, hear;
The creak of a door,
A sliver of light illuminates the tight knit needles.
I hear a gentle slam,
In his own way, a goodnight

I thought I was dying
Smog
Holy
Electrifying
Crumbling of leaves
Beneath swollen knees
Respite from
Can you call it mind altering
Succumbed by disease
Leaking
I devoured
Aspects, hints of true
Licking fingers
Until they were cold and blue
Full, chronological breaths
Eruption
Then the infite thawing
I’d echo words spoken
Between eroding teal beams
The repition
Slight hints at recognition

I thought I was dying
Forest turned
Ash soaked air
Would have taken anyone
Yet you stood there

I don't think about the leaves
or I guess I do
but I try to not think about them too often
I don't really think about you either
or when I do,
I don't see your face
I don't feel your body
I don't even smell you


I think about the way the world looked,
1,200 miles above ground
the cloudless sky
You looked at me like
it was hilarious
I was a cat in water
wanting you to hold me
but you peeled my arms off of you
slowly
how you walked away when
I tried to order the coffee
as the plane was boarding
I don't see your eyes
Your hands don't wrap around my waist
in my memories
I don't think they really ever did,
did they?

I think about how she must feel lying next to you
how similar the side of bed
is to the cold vacant moments when you
turn the light off,
sigh and push the pillows under your head
the distance it's gaping
I still feel it,
a mile and a half away  
in the dark your back
stands out  
She'll spend years chasing
nothing

I think about how he made me laugh
he found this eruption of giggles
and ripped it out of me
until I couldn't stop
the bed shook in this
rhythmic pattern
and I could just lie there
knowing at least he wanted me
at least he knew how to stop time
at least he understood each line
unlike you did
I think about the compromises I made
to be seen after you

the times I turned away from
lashings because
at least I can remember the color of his eyes when he looked at me
at least I can place exactly where his hands laid on my side
at least he knows my favorite line of every song

he knew how to pull
the world into the slow melancholic
better than you ever could have,
how my heels turned toward him when the buzzing of street lights
didn't distract me
his hands could at least slide up
grip into
anything  
and I didn't have to beg

I
didn't
have
to
beg  

even when I knew,
it was wrong

he could quote back the words to me
the moments we shared
held purpose
made me feel like this where
I could belong.

allowed the scent to stain the tips
of each appendage
as I rubbed the delicate petals between
watching how hues of purple
slid gracefully along side the curves, the honey
gold sunlight dripped
ignited the slight variations of dark nightshades from light creams
the hint of white, the shudder of black in each tint
I turned my hands upright
watching fragments cascade to the sidewalk below me

Introduced him into my life
slipped the necklace off my neck and gave him
the exact directions to the destinations
that made me safe
scared
weak
strong
the potions that awakened each aspect in my life
granted him the open doors to each variable that
emulated my entity
turned the side of me, the numb variations that dictated logic,
reason,
protection
and forgot to listen to the words he spoke
as the evening rose above the
firs, evergreens.