I peer behind
a tattered paperback
in hopes to glimpse
her satin lingerie,
praying my laundry's
spin cycle runs
on molasses,
rather than quarters.
Phantom of the Laundromat,
got to get a life!

you are now responsive you are now here you are running and
i understand
i am running too though i don't know what from
can't seem to sense my
enemy, should there be one he must be like the moon
am i like the moon do i even understand
what that means have i not fallen upwards have i not
hit my head on the moon or
the ceiling
hard to tell when the eyes they flee from me
am i not transparant am i not marvelling am i not
alone should i not see alone
i am attached to you like an anchor i have flushed
the water over my head and flushed away in me
whatever understood that situations
like this might be unique i
crumble your candy between my fingers and moan
i am a raven pull my belt tighter around my waist and fall
of the roof the ants are running
my fingers the driveways the spider
is laughing in a corner my wrists are painted
red i am in a bunk bed can only reach you through copper wires
tomorrow i'll run to the city

i draw little shapes on your back and you mimic them on mine, shall we do it like that? you turn me around robot-like: so you want to understand me you just see what you want to see there is no way i can help you out you do not know what it is all about; i give myself a call but i am not home when will i go home? i winter to you -they say, i hear, that life is the only place to resort to; i am here and there in scraps of others and of myself and i sow everything together that i am able to get. we fly like two birds who are illuminated from down under by a glow; the afternoonsun, a nearly-red and the spiders at my feet keep on scaring me and i keep on looking whether they are really there or are merely apparitions and you kiss my feet and everything is solved. come under my wings little bird i swear there is nothing up my sleeve and then we love; our treacherousness; as raw as meat can become, our flight from everything is vertically upwards.

mathematics state that the line in the middle of my chest
is a border

where blood passes over to purple
where i pass over to you (some thoughts)

i sort myself out trash myself another me
wants control
another me screams something about shells
that i should put them over my ear shells i should
never listen to your paper voice (is it weak)
never listen to gravity it proves i cannot ever fall harder or
faster or with more impact still i feel more impact
something has changed and no branch of science has the means to prove it i am standing alone with my feelings

i pass the border in myself then
split myself into two halves

someone that still longs for absurdity
someone else that has long sharp fingers
ticks on the table counter until multiple punctured holes manifest
present my patience dissolved

i am punctured
my brain counter top leaks through my ear shells into the leaves of grass where i sit present
and am writing that you mop through my thoughts
please do not aggravate the mess

show me you can be split in half (double identity)
luminous today
******* scraps of me tomorrow
and kissing and kissing and kissing