regressioni made you a blanket,regression
wrung you out. used your flesh to dilute me so i could flush all the residue away. your second story window mid-afternoon all i can promise is quizás, perhaps. gray area is unknown territory to you, a language you don't comprehend. it is my home. it is my other blanket. it is the place you tried to shove out of me. you do not cry
but you sigh and whine and moan. i am quiet, unnaturally slow. i once wrote you to appreciate silence but now i gnash my words. i bite them to bits then i feed you the s
fascination infatuationi want to sleep with you, by you. i sleep best when you are near.fascination infatuation
you have become my center, my sun. this is not fine. elliptical orbits around your life, the epicycles of our moods. when we are tangent we ignite but it's the gap years that break us down. this is not all right. i scorned dependency yet i am unstable without your gravity, lost in space --
when you tried to trace my face and i said no, i had strength then, i could let you go. but now i am too weak, your eyes reduce me to poems and there is no resistance left in my bones. if you should leave then i would cease to exist, become a wormhole, a wrinkl
exploratory missionwith you time is an afterthought. the days are misplaced, lost in the haze of summer. those liquid lip nights spike in late august, hottest when the sun sets.exploratory mission
after nine you are mine -- i hug your silhouette, reach and cling to your blades of shoulder, of hair. lambskin cheeks, wool in the meat of my kiss, taste your aftershave, those hands i do miss. reach and cling to your mist, the haze that you leave me in, the clouding of my eyes, summer skies in your irises.
slowly the earth slinks into fall and i fall further
i am yours, i want you as minei think my toes and tibias will break if i continue to twirl around you. i allow you to thwart my thoughts; i let you dodgei am yours, i want you as mine
my deadlines.
you kiss me on the iceberg of my nose and you pitter-patter along my fingerprints but you do not say 'i am yours, i want you as mine' in words, only communicate any desire with hands and lips.
delicate crescents cup my hips and you fondle the fabric of my shirt, discover that yes, this is as soft as skin; yes, you make me swoon in flannel. just go for the ass please, keep sliding
Let's Talk About SexAbout how his name makes me start a little when I see it on caller ID or old letters or when our friends say it because they haveLet's Talk About Sex
no fucking idea
and everything I
positively associated with him like
Fugazi, "Das Boot", Carl Jung (help me, Father),
the zebra striped umbrella and the broken clasp on my bra
all now have undertones to cause cringes.
And how that one time I lay
down on the ground, on the grass, and tore at the roots and tore
at my arms, at 2 in the morning and made myself
listen to "Nevermind" over and over and over again until
I g
adam's poemadam wants a poem because he has taken care of my crazy self for the past few weeks even though the first time we met i was screamingadam's poem
and crying with mascara painting itself into a
gothic jackson pollack down my face he still wanted to talk
to me, even though my ex-boyfriend and i almost
killed each other out of drunken rage. regardless he
sat with me on a couch in a strange house til 5am watching baseball and making noises with his mouth. so when he asked
for a poem i have no real qualms putting pen to paper, (fingers to keypad?) and writing something
PomegranatesPeanut Butter, Pomegranates and the Sand You Left in my ShoesPomegranates
Everything was accelerated—zero to sixty in half a second. We kept time with my heart rate and moved faster than the meteors that almost graze the earth. We drifted in and out of the darkness behind closed eyes and set our skins on fire. In sixteen years of dreaming I never could have conjured something this beautiful, not if I wrote a thousand dime romances, not if angels stood beside my desk and dictated every kiss. Expectations seem now like a pale shadow, a hollow echo, like the predawn light—which is lovely, but weak in comparison to the blazing,
currently:
Tired
it's amazing
you have some really interesting ideas!
fyi you're amazing.
--
cars are crashing.
great stuff, really.
--
holdyourbreath.
everything you write...
amazing.
just amazing.
--
holdyourbreath.
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