There is a gentle thought that often springs
to life in me, because it speaks of you.
Its reasoning about love’s so sweet and true,
the heart is conquered, and accepts these things.
‘Who is this’ the mind enquires of the heart,
‘who comes here to ****** our intellect?
Is his power so great we must reject
every other intellectual art?
The heart replies ‘O, meditative mind
this is love’s messenger and newly sent
to bring me all Love’s words and desires.
His life, and all the strength that he can find,
from her sweet eyes are mercifully lent,
who feels compassion for our inner fires.’

Motionless.
Emotionless.
I wonder if you've ever noticed.
Little ticks that I know not.
Do you notice the blood
under my jaundice flesh.
My loopy smile.
Am I the prettiest little peach you've ever seen
Because you certainly are.
You're the color of a magnolia to me.
I notice
Your eyelashes - their exact separation
Your body flesh bone and wiry hairs.
Your sadness your consistency.
I notice your evil your sexuality your undying devotion.
I notice you noticing
I look away
pretend
I never did I never will
admit
how much
I truly crave you.
How much
I truly care for you.

I had someone ask me once
A stranger befuddled
Why are all your writings
*** grime or death
I replied quite honestly,
For a strangers questioning,
'Because those are the most honest things in the universe
Because I don't believe in unimagination
Id rather read of feeding on entrails beautifully written
Than the wet smell of new love
We'd rather see gods creatures splayed red and pink on the sides of highways
Than to live without cars and roads
I'm not sure if that's relevant or poetic but who really cares anyway
I'm certain that fire raining from the sky incites more passion than a newly born anything
The most fun I've ever had I'm sure I was unclothed
And I don't know about you, consumer, but sweaty ****** vicious *** is more pure than the most heartfelt love I've ever felt
If that means I'm damaged - I don't think I mind it
If that makes you pity me - don't
These are just the darkened folded alleyways of my curly brain
I can't relate to normalcy but I've heard that's nothing to be ashamed of
Your glass words cut my face and guts sharply but I'm certain I can't feel it
And I am not bothered by your gore - I feel contented by your devils
And I'd like to know who's with me in this all too descriptive sickness'

I want that iridescent color, the kind that blinds
Fixing appearances to a crumbling ash
Stuck together with glue
A coveted silhouette

Empty.

I want the table set neatly.
As if there were no monsters hiding underneath it
As if I actually ate food there
Neatly stacked and divided

Becoming.

I want the world to smile at me, eyes forced shut
Wandering without direction
Currency in perpetual regurgitation
Locked and loaded

Security.

I want that iridescent color, the kind that blinds.
Hold my jaw shut like the hues aren't already bleeding out.
To see the reflection I've been conditioned to forget.

Truth.

-z0

If you have to cry in public,
the sauna at the Y is a good place to do it.
As long as you are quiet, everyone's eyes
are averted.
Steam clouds vision and the tears drip with sweat to the wet musty floor.

I think about my dad as I take in the thick hot air.
I think about his final moments a decade earlier when in the middle of sleep he just
stopped breathing.
It was so calm and brief he didn't wake mom.
Was he giving her what he thought she wanted? no debt? a house? funds to support her church and those she would call her grandsons?

I fixate on that last breath
that final thought.
If it was lucid, I suspect it was encouraging and hopeful.
A promise of a rainbow after a storm.