the words
we whisper to each other
   of love  of comfort
   longing  and desire
cross separating oceans
with the speed of light

your voice so close
that I can  
   almost  
feel your body next to me
and catch myself
not to give in
to the temptation
of touching air

      * *

go on.

starve yourself.

as if you're not already hungry for something your flesh cannot touch.

go on.

starve yourself.

as if you have not already lost enough.

go on.

starve yourself.

as if your ego is more important than your soul.

in spring, suddenly the sky falls
one minute it's sunny and clear and you feel
your skin toasting, the next the clouds overcome
and fat droplets swirl up dust and sink onto you,
sizzling and cooling, and it's dark again but it's all a blessing
it's all a blessing and maybe you don't see it
but God is on your side.

Lack of planning on your part… is not my emergency!

God touches earth and we all feel him but very few of us call him by his name.

I slumped to the type-writer on a foggy December morning,
tired,
recently broken up with a pretty girl, Allison.
She was 32, older than me and
had long dark hair, pale skin and a habit to chew her fingernails.
Outside, the trees were bleak and jagged, raw from the latter-year chill.
My TV had been left on from last night, displaying re-runs.
Re - “I’m sorry about last night”
re - “It’s fine, look. I’m coming back to pick up my stuff later today, don’t go anywhere”
Re - “Okay”
re-runs.
Previous girl, Wendy, she was nice, worked at a grocery store in town. She could play the flute, though not very well. Sometimes she’d make horrible noises and call those sounds what we were, messy and all over the place, but that’s what made us “work” eventually she moved to Arizona to get back together with her ex from high-school.
“Explain what it is I’m doing wrong?”
“Excuse after excuse you’re always away, off in your own mind. Yet here you are, in the same ******* house all the ******* time”
ex.
Girl before that was Emma, she had a great singing voice, taught yoga and owned two dogs, one was named Oliver and the other Pam.
Pam died very young, nobody figured out why.
Emma cared about her dogs a lot, said she needed some space so she ended things.
Time to sort through life.
“Sort through these boxes, would you? There’s one of Pam with my mum, she looks so cute in this one”
“I met all sorts of people at class today, this one girl, Tracy, wants me to go out with a few friends later, is that alright?”
“Yeah.. yeah sure that’s fine”
fine.
I think I was sitting in front of that type-writer to begin something,
something passionate,
fresh and new to spice up the mornings..
Maybe I’d go for a walk.
I had some boxes of Allison’s things beside the door, it stunk of her perfume and was full of clothes and shampoo, some pictures, too.
Staring at the type-writer was a blank page, Jesus, five minutes I hadn't written anything.
I began with
“Chapter One”
Before getting distracted by those re-runs on TV.