he wants to discuss the
universe so
im pretty
stoked.

I sit in a stranger's kitchen
in the town
we once called home
a bottle in one hand
and a pen in the
                        other.

the things i have done
                                      today
would have made you
                       so happy.

I smoked a cigar
and drank a hot caffeinated beverage
outside of our favorite coffee shop
at an old deteriorating wood table and some plastic chairs
while breathing in
the early autumn air.

I missed you
on the car ride from the interstate into town;
we passed the
park where we saw the
lights
               and you told the
man in the costume that
you wanted me to love
                                        you.

Do you remember when we
picked up trash?
        I do.
   You wore that sweater I
                                     like,
but you were still cold

I wanted to keep you
          warm

Today
I went to that store
you love, the one
you would insist we
always go into.
They moved down
the street to a
bigger location.
They have more games,
more cards.

I asked the owners
if they had seen you
lately. They remembered
                                     you

Because you were so tall
              and friendly:
two of my favorite things
about you.

I bought a card
    with a dragon on it,
the one I always thought
was so pretty.
I asked for it by name.
I remembered the name
                           after all this time.

Tomorrow I will see a parade
and spend time
with our friends.
   They miss you,

but not as much as I do.

I am so glad I
left this place

because it only makes    
        me sad and
                regretful.

I wish I had
           not given up

because your soul is
  more beautiful
             and full of truth
        and connection

          it is a soul I
             have been looking
                for in other
                          people.

You do not exist
     in other people.


You exist

in a town I've never seen

with people I've never met


and emotions I've
                       never felt.


but, to summarize

I had a perfect day
albeit I was *missing one thing

Let me inject some insight into your windpipe.
The things I'd do to you in a dim light - the sin type.
Lace, hair up, high heels, low patience.
A taste; cold hearted with warm embraces.
Divvy up my intentions to evoke your inner beast,
Rummaging thru to devour my winner feast.
Appetite for destruction, thirst for the unconventional,
Back up, head down as the walls resonate your increase in decibel.
No celestial being within these walls when the mood hits,
Deuces, I'll make you see the light more than twice; my stamina defined: ruthless.

You have stars in your hands
and you hold them like grenades.
The boats tattooed on your thighs
spread out like finger placements of the G major chord.
Synthetic drugs make chains
tying your first and second fingers
around the mechanically rolled paper,
canvasing your throat like too much sea water,
each breath as rough as the veins in your arms.
Close your eyes
there’s pollen in the air
spread out like imperfections on the skin of an apple.
Solar countries keep foreign coins
sewed into their cotton sails,
they put their money into the navy.
You have a comet in your circulatory system
leaving bright spots under your skin
a reminder to gather the sunshine back under your eyelashes.
Hand soap in ketchup packets
make bubble bath islands
and unhappy lips.
You’re as talkative as a poem and
as expensive as a poppy
with homemade constellations on your back,
staining your lumbar muscles with cherries.
I can’t wash off your fingerprints
with my favourite shampoo.
I’ll swim across the Georgia Strait,
dodge your dinghies and
make a home in handmade ships
where I’ll practice erasing scars from my arms
and washing the soap from my hair.

Driving along an empty street
at 6pm you
reach the beach.
The sun is halfway set.
You sit there and watch it sink into the ocean.
you think it's gone but then you remember
something you read a long time ago.
You run up to the lifeguard tower
and climb to the top.
When you get there, you can see
a sliver of the sun, setting again.

Nothing is ever gone if you remember
to change your perspective.