Ah ah ah. Not yet.
Popcorn ceiling instead.
Eve curls up. She's got
tiny ankles. And he,
whoever he may be tonight,
does what they always do.
He traces that funny, bony
sphere. He apologizes.
Tells her it's because
she's so beautiful.
His forwardness is
a compliment.
She reminds him of
this character from a Fitzgerald
novel -- not an obvious
one, of course.
She says wow or oh yeah? or
you're just being sweet.
She asks him if he smokes.
He's trying to quit.
Yeah, I have some in
my hoodie pocket there.
She usually removes the dress here.
Just out of his reach.
Taking more time than necessary.
Bent over, digging through the pocket,
she listens for the heavy exhale.
She walks to the bathroom.
Light on.
Door open.
He gives it a moment.
His shirt is off now.
His elbow is on the door frame.
Eve, you know you're not inhaling right?
And here, she let's him teach her how,
as she did with the last one.
By the end of the cigarette,
she's french inhaling.
Had a good coach.
She runs water over
the tip to put it out and tosses it
in the trashcan.
Of course he brings his body against
hers.
He starts with a shoulder massage.
You can go lower.
He skips the bra.
He runs his fingers
just under the lace waistband.
Asking permission.
Are you going to **** me or what?

Jay wants to say he loves her
when he sees her trying to smoke.
He's not sure if he does yet,
but he hasn't said it in so long.
She's got these small ankles.
Her abs are uneven.
There's a mole on her hipbone.
No, no it's just like breathing.
Just breathe for me. Without smoking.
The lungs, right? Take the smoke
into your lungs.
Oh my gawd. Ha ha ha. She coughs.
Jay rubs her shoulders.
She smells of tobacco and coconut-based lotion.
And he goes lower.
And he doesn't want to be too forward.
But she says **** so softly it makes
his hands go mad.

He's shaky. Panting. At the end of it all.
They made love atop the comforter.
Eve burns. Calls it afterglow.
She feels like she's absorbed all
the room's energy.
She puts herself to the edge
of the bed to cool.
You're so soft, she says.
Surprised, genuinely. He made love
so slow. Maybe a little too much eye
contact. He lifts up the blankets,
and asks her to crawl underneath.

She didn't say his name during ***.
And Jay's afraid he said hers too much.
She bit him. Too dramatic for his taste.
And at the end, he feels cold,
as if all the love inside him
has been deposited.
She tells him he is soft.
Probably the loose skin, he says.
Used to be a fat guy. Well, fatter.
When she doesn't respond,
he lifts up the comforter;
crawls underneath.
No thanks, I'm on fire, she says.
He decided not to say I love you.
But he reaches for her.
She faces him.

Patience. You're alright, Jay.

Empty asphalt parking meter,
Suburban drop out,
Accidental, half baked,
She-really-didn't-mean-to-
Love story of the empty
Alleyways and crowded
Cross streets, full of sober promises
And five day old
Chewing gum
Wadded up and discarded
On the faded, cement floor.
Blood pulsating
Through fifteen dollar
Cheap leather combat boots.
The almost cold, October air
Wheezes through halfway parted
Lips and abstract fleece jackets,
Stained by yesterday
And the subtle scent of pizza sauce
Evaporated grease and
Paper thin
Apologies.
Nothing grows here,
As worn out tires skid to a stop
In front of fluorescent bank signs,
Illuminating the way
To a safe ride home
Along with a three dollar waiting fee.
Heavy upon our translucent veins,
The world pushes down onto
Our vulnerable skin:
Hold your breath,
And one-two-three,
You won't even know what hit you.
Pulsating rhythms of life
Of something like Vicodin,
But with a stronger kick-
Bloodshot,
Our eyes dart back and
Forth, until eventually they lose track
Of everything alive enough to feel it.
Vibrant shades of yellow and red,
Lose their faces within
The fogged glass of the department store
Refrigerator. Who is there
To see the transparency of
The off-brand seven up
And diet doctor pepper?
Momma, I have shied away  
From life:
A coward too preoccupied with
Monday.
Death and damsels
Pull at my indifferent coat strings,
Until all I hear is the muffled sigh
Of yesterday
And that of the tomorrow
I will never see.
Oh, twisted fate,
Don't fail me now:
Palms up, I mindlessly surrender:
Who I was
For who I will never be,
Amen to amen,
Crammed up against the scratched,
Metal lining of a transit bus
Between the middle and end
Of a crowded route-
Nothing breathes here:
Hold your seconds until
Reality pushes up and
You can heave in the polluted
Scent of half past five
And missed doctor appointments.
Neck arched back,
Life flows down my esophagus
In the vessel
Of a Benadryl
And vitamin C. It's all the same
When you've bottled up your
Emotions, and sold them for
A pretty price
To anyone poor enough to buy
Them. Leaving you with a penchant
For emptiness, and a stomach full
Of vacant ambition
Sealed to the brim by an
Extended hand, not quite close enough
To feel it.
Bang, bang,
The sound of closure haunts my every move,
Driving me closer to my final hour
And away from the one before it.
I'm no longer with you:
Practiced, proposed, rehearsed and perfected.
Life after death is an encore-
A standing ovation,
So loud
That it drowns out reality.

Racing off the beaten path
Praising love through natures wrath
Pluck the last grape from the vine
Crossed legs trace lips
With a mountains forest, pine.

And pine I did for life last Spring
Pining nature be you it bring
The foliage grows upwards in spry
Towards grey sky, against the lie
That we were born to die

That we're always the cabin
We're always the paper
We're always the leaves
We make up the fire
If we aren't the trees.

Two trees grow together
Two trees brace the weather
We grow to touch the clouds
We burn the same fire
You're the Pine this tree needs
In this Forest Crowd

in the pool we sleep.
we let the deep speak
and retreat into our shallows
with our last breathing
as deep a weaving as a bird's nest
in a dead
eye.

where is where ?
and why are you there, leaving ?
why are you wrong for me ? when the right thing -
is more than our ***.
more
than
love
?

why ?