HISTORY
10.7.19
this morning the green fists of ferns were getting ready
to break my heart
their green holding
all that dampness and recklessness
gladly, brightly – beauty the brave, the exemplary
unlike this heart of mine
cowardly loving this world
do you cherish your humble and silky life?
i alone in this room hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,
softly exclaiming of my dearness
to be wild and perfect for a moment
before wilt
the choice of unfurl has never been mine to make
there is nothing Godlike about me
nothing creation
nothing discernment for who lives and who dies
with a universe growing in my belly
nothing matters like it did anymore
on that day, everything changed.
MIRROR
10.6.19
even a mermaid will drown
in an angry ocean
your tides leave ripples in the world
in me, at least
singing songs of certain
clear eyes mismatching a sun stained skin
friend, may you always find your ground
may you always have a lifeguard
the day you die is a day the sun does not rise
HISTORY
10.1.19
i share a legacy with the sky
we both know how to carry
some unanswered prayers
some unshed tears
we water what is most important to us
the morning i told the flowers about my love
they blossomed
sporing like mushrooms – i can pick out people
who do not know their own worth
sharing a table with the fat man
a radio voice of boom he makes my lovers laugh
two witches, a doctor, and a hung over gnome.
those who say
this is no fairy-tale
i wish them magic
SNAKE-S-KIN
9.23.19
standing on the afterthought of something
not to call it calm
dew and fog after the storm
it hurt until it didnt
now we’re digging at the dry well
begging, pleading with throats parched and raw
to go dig a little deeper
and maybe that’s the point
we either die searching for the dead
or we look up
something’s gotta give
the less of her there is in me, the more of me i remember
i don’t need filler
luke warm bullshit
everything feels too much too numb
one big lie making little dishonesties brittle at trust
i think she touched something in me
im a little less trusting
a little more muddle and doubt
trying not swallow adam’s apple
almost killed me
im trying not to let it define me
DANCER
9.19.19
things you will never know;
i’ve seen a man loose an arm, and i cant unsee it.
it’s the kind of sight that turns pain into discomfort
illness into inconvenience
i’ve learned humility the way you’ve learned confidence
one day i think perhaps we’ll trade lessons
may yours be as soft as your pillow
i don’t want a key out of convenience
out of need
give me a key because you want me inside.
i don’t need a place to run away too –
i’ve become adept at running away.
give me instead, a place to stay.
falling in love with you has been
far less graceful in my universe than yours
at times i wonder where you saw the open in me
i don’t believe i had a choice in the matter.
even if i did, i wouldn’t choose otherwise.
it’s fitting i suppose.
a blindfold can freeze a body one second
you catch me off guard
there are times – i’ll admit
i want nothing to control
i have a knack for beings
intuitions for those i know mean something
conversations with cicadas
and the magic of those talks
guides my choices, my life more than any reasonable human would admit.
you’re right
if we told people how we fuck
how my body and your body have met heaven
how i’ve put yours through hell
how you’ve made me call out god’s name and pray for more more more
in one in-breath
no one would believe us
i’ve drafted more words for you that you can count
none of which have any meaning
without how deeply i’ve fallen for you.
FORTUNA
9.15.19
its a funny feeling
wanting so badly to stop loving somebody
and then the moment when you do –
can feel, at times, like the slaughter of nothing at all.
i don’t think the idea of loving you went away
it just got shoved under the bed
collecting cobwebs
forming into something that made a burning sensation in my chest go away.
you started a forest fire in my heart
and i thought the pain was worth the heat.
MIRROR
9.14.19
a physicist told me
if i were a kata i’d be the snake
undulating, quick to strike – somewhat unpredictable
i would disagree with him if i didn’t have to come to terms with my own mortality every time i hopped on a damn airplane.
HISTORY
9.13.19
Philippines II
i’ve been drowning in folklore
digging deep into the belly of uncensored
if there is any word used to describe this raw place
dense
where the air hugs your forehead with dew kisses
feeling round the clock forestry breath
they sigh here, the trees do
where the words are guttural sounds
harsh in your palate and smooth
they know their weight an purpose
imagine the smoothest strike on the bowling ally
thats what it’s like
so it makes sense
for this place to be oweled by nightmares
the things that keep you up at night
bed bugs and cheating lovers
milk without its honey
some body heavy
here we laugh our last day away the chills
sore throats and aching muscles
its worth it.
DANCER
9.11.19
im not sure what you are
too smooth to be cinnamon,
too social to be saffron,
too neat to be cardamom.
youre not quiet ginger or pepper either
im not sure exactly what kind of sunflower
you are
right now, however
you are perfect lavender dreams
splitting cake pieces with swords and calling them mercy
the way fawns lick the grass before they eat
like an apology to those around
not for their forgiveness
but within their own
you are right in one thing
its all worth it
if they ever ask me – if id do it again
in a heartbeat
for you, for her, for all of them.
i will not bitter and sour over spilt milk
FORTUNA
9.10.19
if there is one thing i know
you brought summer to my heart the way he brings me spring
just how you love your winter
no one will ever be the four seasons
eventually
we spend too much time falling in the idea of this fullness
delusion detests the focus romance provides the veil for
we grew to think of it as some kind of magical home away from home
some lush forest filled with pies and almonds and puppies
none of whom were getting laid
we were stepping on land mines to this fantasy
some sick seesaw
where you want me – im hormones chastity belt
calling in monsoon season
your mouth between my legs
re-kindlings of lust long gone we are oatmeal skins you and i
we were magical
until lightning strikes
see, stab the body and it heals
stab the heart and it’ll beat the way a guitar sings by ripping off the strings
no longer electric in ecstasy
but how a dentists strikes a nerve
or scratching silveware on china
holding my hands over the ears of my heart to silence broken promises
or slicing reality – it keeps coming out poorly
and here it comes with conviction, almost panic.
mentally exonerating anyone who has kicked a chair out from beneath
if killing someone was on your bucket list
you can check it off a hundred times
feeding me one more drop of poison with each excuse
skinning me alive – putting on shapes for you body to fit into
theres no me to this skin left
there was foreshadowing to this – wearing my skin on your body
and yes, it was cheating. conscious, sober, knowing cheating.
fuck you for reducing it to the word cheating.
as if this were a card game, and you sneaked a look at my hand.
who came up with the term cheating, anyway?
a cheater i imagine.
someone who thought liar was too harsh.
someone who thought devastator was too emotional.
the same person who thought, oops, she’d gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
fuck you. this isnt about slipping yourself an extra twenty dollars of monopoly money.
these are our lives. our bodies. mine and yours and his.
you killed something
and you killed it when its back was turned