Tuesday, December 21, 2010

he used to shake the storm off him when he came home,
a great big dog
of a man
his rain puddles sitting calmly by the door

"are you cheating on me?" she would ask one night
and he would say "yes" because
it was better that she think he was preoccupied than
sad



[the apartment building was exactly level and the our windows matched up so i watched them for hours from my little hole on the 3rd floor with names carved into the molding. i knew he had money because his furniture was made from heavy wood and not the cheap shit that butterfly screws in and she was younger but hunched like an old woman. they said 'goodnight' and slept with their backs touching so i said 'goodnight' and slept with hospital sheets
and my back pushed up against the dresser
particle board, cheap shit.]

a researched joy

i touch you like a spider with
eight fingers drinking your skin
into their ridges;
a reservoir of remembering

you walk from the bedroom to the kitchen
steps heavy with
love.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

in the morning with sleeping lips



i can see through her eyes, those
great gray open books.
hey, did i ever tell you about the time
i turned all the good days terrible
and life was a husk




being happy is even better when i'm being happy with you.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

a place we've never been



invisible strings over mountains and
farms
and power lines
from your chest to mine,
i love that you believe
there's still a bit of naive
left in me.

crossed out in the margin, a name.



and i'll be the snow if you'll be salt
and capture me inside of you and
freeze together; i want to know
what you think about late at night when everything is quiet when
no one's around.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

baby please don't go



i've never been good at anything

the way i'm good at loving you.

two ninety six point eight nine


"she smiles now, which is an improvement"
they say and they smile too
i laugh and scratch at the number under my skin

Saturday, December 11, 2010

degaussed




"take me, take me back to your bed
i love you so much that it hurts my head
say 'i don't mind you under my skin'
i let the bad parts in, the bad parts in

well you're my favorite bird and when you sing
i really do wish that you'd wear my ring
no matter what they say, i am still the king
the storm is coming, the storm is coming in"


a speck of summer in December;
i'd set my ship to your stars
you are the simplest sleep
on the plane ride coming home.

Friday, December 10, 2010



people listen;
she is sand she is sand she is sand
cradle her to your chest

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

all these moons are yours.



and sometimes I can see the California inside of you

years of sunshine baked freckles and the ocean at your bedroom door

watching a tiny bright body

sleep safely.

sand worn into your hands.

something beautiful watching a tiny bright body
sleep safely.

[the garish moon like a mother hen]



Friday, December 3, 2010

merry fucking christmas




MERRY X-MAS.

this won't be the last;



A,
i don't know why i sometimes write you letters still and the little drawer underneath my desk is leaking
with all the words i don't tell people but i can tell you because you're dead.


i don't know what to do, her mouth is closed and that's how i know she might cry and
when i say the words, the stars in her eyes flicker and ghost-; farther and farther away from me.
i love her, you know, i miss her but i can't just run away to California because i might never come back. i'm trying so fucking hard to make all the right choices all the time and it's so
dumb
because even the right choices still hurt people.


A,
i imagine you in an ivy league campus coffee shop reading my words
and smoking and drinking some
artistic
drink and you aren't strung out and you aren't so thin and you aren't so fragile.
you take pretty pictures and you twirl in your dress for her and you even smile
occasionally.
i can't talk to anyone like i talk to you
because you listen and you don't mind if i stutter through stories and
you're dead.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

.



she tells me to write her things, leaning on elbows, in bed early Sunday
darling, every breath i take is a love poem
every second i am alive is a testament

is an endless torrent

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

resounding silence.



and now silly things like half full glasses of apple juice
and
your sweatshirt hanging off the back of my chair
break me apart

you were just here
i swear, i remember
you were here.