i’ve never not wanted to write
about love before,
but every minute
my pen is to this paper
is a thought you have without me,
a smile i may miss,
a lost opportunity to tell you
i love you i love you
i love you.
I. EVACUATION
run
without thinking.
let your feet slap
the pavement. you need
to get out of here before
they burn you alive.
i know it hurts. sometimes
you have to
save yourself first.II. VIRGINITY
no footprints in the snow.
you’ve not yet learned to
not let everyone in.III. BLESSED CHILD
you’ve been vandalized
you throw your body
off of cliffs
so you can know how
it feels to fly.
you’re branded and scarred,
and you only know
how to smile.
the best time to write is when
i’m sorry or sleepy because
the words flow unapologetically–
they do not try so hard to sound good.there is a drum in the front of my brain,
and I don’t know if it’s
because of the rain or the way
the dentist drilled my gums today.it is empty in the house, but too loud
with my mother’s anxieties,
and the air is heavy with tears
that are shed once the lights go out–
shed like room for growth and
thicker walls–
shed like hair, like skin,
to make room for
something new and healthy and strong.what do we shed with our tears?
our weakness? our pain?
i have been waiting.
through skin untouched
and sallow love.
i have been waiting;
i believe
it has been for you.could it be
you are a shadow from
my dreams?
your voice,
where have i heard that
tone?
why does it sound so much
like home?
WEARY TRAVELER FINDS REST
WITHIN THE HEART OF A CHILD:
we are
a miracle the world chortled
at thinking existed, a dream
within a dream.
too far beyond
the imagination, a
hallucination of the heavens.
suffocation comes in rainbows
laced with love
crushed between kisses
that draw blood-
red beauty
some of us can only choke
on the breath
of flowers.
there is something holy
in the lines by
your eyes.
heaven exists in between
your front teeth and the way
your lips become
mine.
there is no room for
perfection
while the sun still shines
and the moon glows–
we remain within
light;
the devil does
not exist here.
take a spoon
to my chest and gather
the seeds;
make a bed
for your sorrows.
i will help you grow
from them,
i promise. i will help you
turn them into flowers.
take these torn
up, gouged
out heart parts.
every cavity of
my being is for you.
follow me to the end
of the world.
i want to hear ‘i love you’
echoing off a canyon’s edge;
your laughter, never ending
in the darkness.
your hand in mine,
double helixes of fingers
two plants intertwined,
seeking the same sun.
you’ve learned how to pay the bills:
the one thing you’ll always have
that you can always sell.and you know the market’s always great
for what you’ve got, so
put on your slip
and your face, baby,
and don’t play in the mud
on your way to the corner
tonight.
Silenticel 