I was forced to sit upon a bench before a marbled statue in an art museum. Through patience and boredom, I traced over the figure before me. It was a woman. Her skin appeared so smooth, and her existence so intentional. She was draped with sheer fabric. How one carves sheer fabric from marble stone, I would never know. She looked so beautiful and at peace. Was I at peace? I mentally scanned over myself. I felt the nervous pumping of my heart and heard the carbonic shuffling of the toast I had eaten prior. I glanced, but not too obviously, at my fingers and the hands they were attached to. I could see the tangled roots of blue crawl between each other and the millions of cross hatched lines overlaying. I looked back up at the marble person. She had no pumping or shuffling. No crawling or cross hatching. She was silken and at rest. I tried to mimic her. I held in my place. Unmoving, unthinking, just being. But the more I tried, the worse I heard my heart and the worse I felt my stomach. I heard my thoughts and my chest rise and fall. I was cursed. I wanted to be like the woman. But my homeostatic existence forced me to continue. I held my mind as I stared at the statue with envy. What an existence to live. Pure, uninterrupted stasis. True stasis. She only moved when moved by others. And even then, she was at rest within herself. No knowledge outside of her oneness. I looked inward again. I was forced to be here. I was forced to be brought here and forced to be taken away from here someday. No one even thought to ask me about the matter. Time is so limited. And here I was. Forced to be here and forced to be here, looking at this woman with more than I could ever have. She was beautiful, spending everyday within a single place being praised by liberal art students and school children who pass through this atrium, even though she did not exist for them. She existed for herself. She stayed within herself, her own scope. Unbound by time or place in her mind. Yet, we all were lucky enough to have witnessed her within her unboundaries. After brushing over her several thousand times, I noticed a chip within her pedestal. I became silently aggravated at the prospect of some lazy dolt who was given the honor of moving her to only do so uncarefully, or an ungrateful adolescent bored amongst the halls of everlasting pieces of geniuses’ minds. But that was just it. They weren’t everlasting. Not really. Not even she, as her perfection captivated for millenia. For the first time, I felt I was her, and she was me. As she has been idolized for her beauty, such as I for the people who loved me. She had a history, as did I. We both have texture and features of difference, but we were to lie in the same bed someday. I would fall asleep much sooner than she, but all things must lay to rest. Even if she spent her entire worldly being in protection, she would still be brought to a close with the setting of the Universe. Two immaculate sisters saying farewell, both so vastly different yet frustratingly the same. Though for both, the daughter of mass and the daughter of time did not cross each other’s paths. They merely felt one another through the beings within and around them that occupy the other. Mass felt time around her, as time felt mass within her. And thus, were one, with no knowledge of the other. I took the first breath I had acknowledged since I first sat on this bench. My eyes attempted to adjust to farther focal points of the rest of the building once I finally pried my gaze from the woman. So many other beautiful beings existed in this singular space that I had no idea about until now. I wanted to spend my time with them, before they had no more time to spend with me. A woman came out of the door to my left. She asked me if I was here to interview for the security guard position. I nodded. She invited me to follow her into the room, and I did just that.

sleepgirl don't

                               the world
               waits

                        for
                  your
                           hands to
                     find it
                   kindly nestled unfisted gracefully held
                   A round word of unspeaking lips
                  berried in love of colours inumerable
                  cupped in the stomach of the ocean complains
                  against the night

                                                          ­       A LIGHT

                   which in your carefullest heart eternally
                   quakes for letting
                   so uncarefully more divide thy palms
                   admitting a fragile infinity of kissing)andsleepinggirldon't

girl suddenly let's live unthinking
with me          live
without  
               a single fear               Live
fiercely
in brazen                              sating
     live           thoughtlessly
and uncarefully dispose     your
mouths sweetest waste in     my
mouth Girl                       beginning
carelessly       let's                destroy
apprehensions gentler cuffs     let's
unbind our firmer stuff             and
let's find their able tools in wanton
caprice
let's suddenly live unfearing and
thinklessly

a more particularly dreaming fatally clings
to my head, of your dramatically stupid
love, i uncarefully plummet into and

               thought

                                  by
                                             thought      
    

climb up the dust
of your sternly remembered ***

and the ******
of your healthy florid stroking, the

homely distinct razor of your kiss
and the limpid flavor of your hips

enamors

inch
by
inch

up my thigh
strangling me in the faintly
distilled miracle

of your frailly killing idea

some short spark
you seem hard
hot over your
microphone
wailing
a bigness
larger
than
the
very
pert
figure
you cut
nicely out
the quavering
small air of a basement
houseshow crowded tangle
of faces and ears on edge at
the electric stroke of your agile
pick(but even larger is the alone
cloying to every word you uncarefully
hammer into the strangled pocket of youth)
i would take it i would take your alone voice
and i'd put it with mine and together perhaps
we would be something like some might call Love

slee  ep.  .   .

              
                though

             you
                   are

                           awake


i am alive in you;


      (in thy body–

          and amongst thy leaves

            i am naked and fragrant )



i am touching the cool spine
and the cambered wrist;
lightly mute, **** and bruised
with dark veins.

your cheeks are pale;
your eyes are soft–
hugely brimming
with neat darkness.

you come over the mouth.
you hold the breath
between delicate fingers.

you are nearly kissing,
each nearly moment of body.

you move with quick slowness:
never rushing,
never uncarefully treading.


((s l ee p..   .

though

         you are alive;


i am awake in you.

                                       )

                                       )

Paint layers walls
And walls layer houses
Uncarefully placed
In our carefulness
Comforted in perfection unreachable

And what wisdom lays
In a world that wreaks destruction
On the weak foundations that we sow
And the even weaker plants that we reap
Fabricated
Cheap
An amalgamating mess
Painted onto
Thin fragile walls
Holding up
Thin fragile houses

being just the flesh eyes
make electric,
blue that
the sky
occasionally will be,

or wooled over
in grey,

and A house will
suppose a window

before which
(being just the flesh)

skin will
zing
electric

over from
the palp of winds;

the hair will,
****** between by
some air,
bumble and ******;

the scalp will rejoin
with wine,
spilt uncarefully
in sips
through the gullet,
and the cheek will
renumber the blossomed
heads of capillary and vein:
being cloaked in pallid rouge.

1 rude reality intrudes
its bulging
and inflamed
nose, about

which hangs
the paunchy
and florid
cheeks,

blud strung
by fine and
very narrow
little veins,

that weblike
spider across.

in their thinness
straying
(uncarefully)
the neck down.

the hair is lank.

the eyes distended,
in which,
their is some sheen
dulled.

the ******* hang,
(are limp),
flaccid
and pendulous.