I want to be
the
Cruel type of
Beautiful--

with my lips dripping
Blood and my dress
Trailing jewels,
My insecurities hidden between each
Fold of silk, saying
"I can **** if I must//"
but I won't

The kind where
after crying  
my eyes are red-
(Not from sadness
But)
from anger and dissociation,
and people fear what I have not said--
With my  
heart stitches torn open, and ink
Seeping through

and I'll never have to
Apologize.

The crystal structures that shape

tears of Joy are not the same

as tears of Sorrow;

Peace glides gently through

veins of an uplifted Spirit, a corrected

perception! Virtuous

steps of shedding and unpacking,

ascending on ladders built from

everlasting arithmetics.

Driven consciously by the heart,

as the mind smiles and takes

a break from its usual dance.

No need for measure,

simply present within the

strands of silk,

strengthened by the agreement

to let it be.

When her grandeur legally mine
well she's not as Lakshmi:

     her dream ardently admire
     her white sands tenable with feng shui.

And she sing so locutionary
though orient exclaim larger than life
but she move ahead as her queen:

     she's in a slightly slinky silk dress
     she's more than her picture tonight

     it's fantasy in her life
     it's all about romance too
     it's practical again & again
     it's polite oft let bequeath
     it's crucible demand Eros

then belie someone in her quest
with ideas that suggest outcome made:

     her civilization grow
     her factory of preparedness wrought
     her plan of platitude forthright!

The sands of El Dorado
Lash my tongue under tarp;
Wishes born something golden,
Fried eggs under beds
And homes, abodes in progress,
One peso at a time –
A tale and tear with every grain,
An allowance and granted only
Broken window.

The ragged lump of pillow
Where I now taste time,
Reeks of mescal with my
One white elbow
Tapping one bronze elbow;
Distant, under woven wanderings
And tattered dreams of parents
Wishing well – come subtle guilt,
Whilst the roofs of a prior Tibet
Tap atop my tether.

And while I ponder what strums –
Atriums, tempest and tubular,
I also reckon in what it means to be
Held and held alike
So that I can protect
And protect alike;
She’s waiting for me in “before”
And in Mexico, in the “now,”
So much sooner the past.
So to sooner, broken the future.

And so mothers will cry in kitchens,
Others laugh come the next fool
And yet others, abandon others
So that soon, recklessly soon, my feet
Make a wonderful twist toward away;
But at least I’d had this sunset –
Something to ride off into like the
Liquid dreams off a furrowed brow
And at least we’d had “we” on more time.

Just one more time.

Nothing scares me more than inspiration stampeding towards me
I can feel her coming on like lightning bolt
As I sit in the distance eyeing her songs and poems and sonnets and anecdotes
Spiraling with great effort towards me
She has given me a net and a silk floral dress
For she has grown weary in the heavens
Living as idea and essence
Preferring a life of the palpable
To walk amongst the lay of men
To sleep within the threads of a woman
And yet I can only feel the chaos of her wash upon me,
As I throw her net into the great gulp of her eye
And I capture nothing but the pure feeling of
Her wrath in between the seams of my silk dress.

It always starts with death, the pheromones do
Dance on the whispers of air. It beckons to those
Of appetite to seed this silk husk of decay.

They do dance upon its pungent rigor-mortis,
Cultivating the void that was life. The calling
Of a flowering beckons as petals of white cascade.

And then this poignant collection of events collided,
Bursting forth and what was but decay did feed life.
A collage of fragrances hit upon the air and wept.

These petals of silk did tumble upon the flesh and absorb
The sinews to bone. Once they had danced they, withered
Into corruption. Drifting onyx lifted fleeing to  the wind.

Hello, my darkness,
I found you at last.
I stifled the blinding lights,
And delight in your soft kiss,
Your velvet cloak pooling in the corners,
And the soft silk touch of the moon
Glowing silver behind your eyelids,
And your fathomless depths
Bleed like ink, and I breathe you In like smoke,
out like water from the abyss.
You surround me with your touch,
you fill me, even as we cut delicate missteps
In the sweet, swaying, firey silence
For I am as mystified with your cool secrets,
As you lay entranced with my light.