Category Archives: poetry

// Jasmine //

It had been a jasmine evening which left its hand upon my chest, the moon so lonely I could taste her forlorn eyes. Some days prick like lemondrop needles sweet and bitter against the tongue.
Out there the wolves.
Out there the doves.

Out there a world revolves around itself and the same revolution envelopes whatever this cruelty is inside of me. I can hear you talking but I cannot let you in. There was something they gave me to take away the pain and it took you, too.

I am letting go.

The tethers are coming up
ever so slow

but I still hold you deep in my bones
even if I cannot touch you
this I know
this
I know.

My ribs full of roses blossoming thorns
swollen sadness she is breaking my soil she is
she is mine,

beautiful are the tears which do not come and I know
I’ll have to crawl up out of this grave
somehow
swallow life again but this baptismal throat is fire,
these limbs, how we have become this tired.

I do not know.
I do not know.

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// This Is What I Love, This Right Here //

Along the dusted edges
of a world unknown
bodies trailing by
I walk as though a secret

as though a memory
an ivory mist between the fingers
a dream of a time to come
not promised, not spoken of.

We hold onto hope the way we bow our bright eyes into the fog, made in the image of ghosts, made of wisps of fading photograph delirium, the glow at the tips of fireflies against water in the dark. Reflections. Illusions. For everything we hold we wish were something else.

If we are not lovers, if we are not bound together by vein or tongue or country, if our visions eclipse each other but do not touch, then let the world be brought into eternal solitude, let the earth beneath my grass wet feet weep only to be alone. There is something here we refuse to see. Something intelligent, calling to us with its mouth, a wide gray ocean, fingers tearing open knees, rain pricks stiff along the neck beneath the trees.

And we drift, we are adrift, we grasp for what we cannot believe only to fall again upon ourselves. This is me against me. This is you against you, and every mirror is another hall. The rolling thunder of this bone longing, this desperation. Press your palms to mine, I can feel your heart bleeding into time. And as the sun turns down her body to blue sing the mountains to sleep, I am a wanderer inside for the way we do not see. A vessel for the silence crawling along the seams.

.

// Kiss You All Over //

The words come as I forget to eat and try to catch them
sand falls through time.
I hope you dream bigger than this.
I hope that you do not give up or turn to face
the darkness
without tucking your fingers into the hands
of the light.
Hold them close when they are madness
let their voices sing in your mind
when they leave you for dead.
The people who come too close
are afraid.
The ones who leave
still teach if you can learn not to let fear
take you under.
This life as she looks you in the eye
is falling away from under your feet
do not stop
do not give up
do not keep the words in drawers
but if you need to
go away for a long time
and let the sea kiss you
all over.
.

// Remember Me //

Has this been the hurt inside of you
these cuts on my hands
the crush of broken promises.
Your static mouth a shrieking fog

buzzing in my head, humming –
you like grains of sand
scratching a desert
in my throat.

Remember me a grapefruit moon

hanging in your rear view mirror
love in the back seat
melon. sunset. smoke.
love

took a back seat.

Now the morning rolls down her sheets
silicone heat waves sweat across my tongue.
I listen for you but all that moves nails along the wall
are reflections of an empty afternoon.

(my arms reach
for three corners from this corner)

The windows are swallowing sunlight
the sunlight is dangling through trees
traces of a dim lit landscape
you used to speak of

in dreams.

.

.

// Liar //

I know you are not listening.
I know there is a voice which speaks to you
and you hold its neck beneath the
waterline;

choke the truth
that’s choking you.
You are silent, thrumming in stoic madness
to keep it hush.

It is silent
but the truth is a disease with no breath
carried along on the scarred back of eternal breeding.
It has no heart for beating

or not beating,
shadowboxing with the pulse of
a faceless time of day,
swing and a miss

and miss, miss, miss.

What you fight is what is biting
you, the Mistress and her missing fingers and
her broken window teeth.
She is there despite you

in you because of what you are
and the howl in your stomach is filling
itself as you swallow its tongue
cursed hunger without permission

filling itself with rage.

.

.

// Darkness Falls //

I didn’t want it to be like this
you hanging by your teeth from my breast
and my not wanting to kiss you.
How the being of neglect walks alone through the hills
black cloaks and woodland creatures falling all around
my feet

the birds have come to nest
the birds have come to die

for lack of air in my lungs.
I could watch you spinning for as long as it takes
to stand the earth still
and freeze the clouds overhead in place,

write to me of the darkness you see. I want
to read the words you choose.

I bathe in cool darkness,
shower and dress and tug at my
neck
in darkness

line my lips and my eyes and stain my cheeks
with the smut and the ink

of the darkness in which
we dare not between us
speak.

.

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