Paige was a story
she has black ink over her arms
drawn there by her little brother
who does not know what permanent marker is
who has no questions about life
Paige was not only a story
but a book
that she writes in every night
spills her heart
like a cup full of water
she has small thoughts
she thinks
never wonder  
what it's liked to be hugged
but always got the same question in return
where will I go
when I no longer have this story
no longer have this poet in my heart
who keeps me up at night
in this soft soft night
where she dreamt of you asleep
dying quietly
in your bed
crawl back to it
in the drunk afternoon
catch the floor
before it lifts itself from under you
when it does
buried in the soil
is a book you've never read
with a question you've never asked

we walked into a book store
eating mangos
I read history
you read fantasy
a chuckle caught my grinning lips
you smiled towards me
juice dripped
from your cheeks
you never look more
beautiful

we bought our imaginations
tickets to the carnival
road the carousel
over and over and over again
laughing like careless adolescents
both sick off the mangos

we ate corn dogs
road the ferris wheel
kissed the stars
and brought them home to play with us
we dressed them
in my mother's old cloths
she no longer needs them
neither do I
I still hold on to them
one day
I will burn them in a field
along with everything I own
and place the ashes in my mother's grave

on that night
we shall let the stars go
make the long journey back
to whatever imaginary place
we call home

my nights are spent alone
I find myself more at peace
when I speak quietly to it
some nights
sleep finds ways to elude me
other times
my pillow can hold me like my mother
I can dream four dreams a night
and remember them as one
I like to pretend my guitar is a diary
and the stings my pen
I imagine pictures of you dancing on clouds
so far away from my bedroom
it is small
you are just a crush
and I now know why they call it that
I now know why I sleep alone
and why I no longer talk out loud

their movements were blurry
children on the playground
on far away islands
they're still taking boat rides there
on their wings
and dreams
through fields and seas
to be with them
I dreamt of the flower
and a handful of rain to water it
their smiles were endless
their laughter still full with wonder
and their cheeks rose colored and full of grapes
I dreamt of this place
so strange
like gold
like sun never heard of night
I'm still trying to hold on to it
this childlike wonder
slips so easily through my fingers
dances like fire
like passion in the writer
and the water that fills his eyes
every time he understands little by little what love means
I dreamt of this place  
and did not know where to find it
where the flowers still grow
and so does my imagination
maybe it still is
and I can one day find my way back to it
if I ever do
I hope it will teach me something
about beauty
then I can teach that something to you

I have nothing but a heart

and a jacket to keep me warm

the wood was too wet

and all we had were books

we read them

under burning candles

huddling close

enough to make us wanna kiss

all we did was read

I did not ask you to forgive me
only sit with me in a field

sit with me and pray

watch the black grass turn green
morning sleeps on the other side of the river

you notice the soft feathers
of the swallows

you fallowed them alone
found fields more fit for prayer

my hands are bleeding
I shall leave you messages
on the white rocks
so you may find your way back to me

I hope one day you'll read them
and know

I still have not forgiven myself

come with me tonight
to the lake filled with tears
we have nothing to fear tonight
god rests his head on the moon
he watches us
we can sit and stare and be alone
it's ok tonight
because she is as heavy as we are
I've been heavy
still trying to find what it means to be light
I have nothing to give
all I've ever had was lost
and we can be everything tonight
it's ok to be alone
as long as night still hangs on us like a coat of sorrow
like empty water glasses
and we carry the tears back and forth
not spilling one drop
carry your tears like bestfriends
they do not care
nether does god nor moon
nor the black or the stars
be lost my friends
and come with me this morning
under dawn filled hilltops
like oceans of blue flowers
let go of all you know
let the bees not find ways to sting us
shake us like ghosts
shake our rib cages filled with beating hearts
shake our teeth like spilling library books
all we've ever known were colors
let us count them
I bet you I know what blue looks like
I bet you I can show you
just close your eyes
tell me what you see
tell me the sky was bluer then the one last week
I'll tell you what my hands say
they can play music and cut vegetables
on good days they can hold other hands
not always their own
but these last few months I haven't had some good days
we're still friends but we haven't talked
haven't carried my tears in water glasses in years
I'd still like to
maybe I'll fallow you tonight
as long as you will still call me a man in the morning
well... maybe another time
maybe another time