headache bleeds and you are there like trees like water and your scent in in my nose and the scrape of your one-day beard is on my chin and you are there like wine like aspirin and your taste is braided into my hair and the curve of your shoulders is in the palm of my hand headache fades and i am here like vowels like verbs and my consonants are missing and my subjects my indirect objects are nowhere to be found but i am here like sugar like an island and my silence hangs around my neck and my calm is an old fashioned glass bottle green on your windowsill 9 october 2001 |
perfect so flawless or so they say life |
leave me but you don't your perfect name and your cocky game your relevance and your seriousness your ugly girlfriend who's never even seen beauty and she sells her body wait no i didn't do that baby would and did blending into just your kind of easy lie i lie back and breathe the blue thought that you never could have made me happy begins to seep in, cool on my skin, sweet on my lips but bitterness remains in the thin aftertaste which reminds us both that's not true in the end honesty stands tall in the swelter of pain unmoved, unmoving, upholding every bit of what you just said bold in the unforgiving light -- which is truth -- glaring angrily at me from within my own knowing that you were never even close 6 july 2002 |
two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl year running what wish |
the poetry of my love is something like this close on the hand forming these letters spread of ink into paper extending imperceptibly into the grain -- achingly -- red on white the word fade not even coming to mind and something like this asking in the dark if you're scared and you don't hesitate (not like i thought you would) and you say no and breathe and stop and kiss me and something like this close on the hand twined together with mine spread of love across skin staining you everywhere i touch (and still we move hungrily against each other) and cover ourselves in colour -- innocently -- red on white the word trust not even coming to mind
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want me when i'm not myself? wait it out while i am someone else?
and i
I always do
suppose i said |
you are my to-do list and my hubcaps, my crowning touch and my overhead light, a vase, cut-glass, and zippers snugged down over boots you're sunrise, sundown, dryer lint on the floor, rain at three oclock in the afternoon you're my waiting room, my toothbrush, my favorite book, a map you're winter white, my telephone ring, woolen socks and unexpected kindnesses; steel toes, blue anger, and a check-engine light that's always on you're coffee in my cup, my bank balance, my earring, my computer screen, darkness falling you're a veil, a quilt, a long pleated skirt; a dream, a change, a once-needed prescription you're a sigh, a glance, red lips across a room, broken elastics, beer and sex and smoke, a haircut with bangs you're a poetry critic and a shameless artist, tube lights, love, U.S. News and World Report you're a thought fleeting and light on a wednesday afternoon, a bright white dinner plate, a candle flame, a license plate, an unfinished poem ------------ complete absence of thought
|
inside's on the outside and my right side's on the left side and i'm writing to reach you |
|
maybe you don't feel even the slightest bit bad that you took yourself away from me and maybe you don't miss my rubber sandals on your dirty carpet or my enthusiasm for your music and maybe sometimes you know you never want to see me again but maybe yesterday you remembered my smile or the way i listened and maybe one day you'll find under your dicker and deal couch that put a scratch on the back of my right hand that still hasn't healed an envelope addressed to my old high school friend that i am losing slowly instead of all at once like you
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it is electric, this
current
a buzz (thrill)
stop
and it feels like
dying
kissing
ending
starting
stopping again
and again
and again
and in the morning i wash off
the smell of sex
and cloves
with soap that doesn't change
a thing
|