I don't know how to exist
outisde of your bed.

My life is a chapped lip.

Blues and yellows forget
Math exists.

Vignette, vignette, vignette
A vin yet
Have you been yette?
Vignette vignette vignette

in a cereal bowl at noon
is it nothing then
If I was not here
to see it and to smell it
Like a bee visiting flowers

I make pollen from the
Stems of sugared breads

(simpleton)

Tied to the web of your bed
that lunges forth with a bite so hard
A loss is gained in those arms
a cold heat retreats to the
somber safety of our sheets

The past sings a song, fair and long
And I ask in silence
But directed with a truth so innocent
"am I the only one who hears it?"

You find my rare grace tempting
caught inside you with scissor legs
cornered against the fire of your best

Live in my bends forever like the lush moon so bright

The humming together-- a melody remembered,
Your doorway is a highway and a desert from
the webbed corner dually spun
"oh," your response comes loud,
Disruptive and volcanic
"I'm no exception
And neither are you"

And like a singed plume,
The running squalor of us,
the flames escape
And the heart moves away like walking
Alone, on concrete and inside a grey morning

i never unlearned Santa Claus

how does it feel to believe in god?

Is different from containing one
And putting it inside a bell jar.
Then, sitting that jar on a shelf
Above your bed,
Like a crucifix.

Stepping into sunlight,
There's a parade on my head!!