n/a

The world is not a cold, dead place.

recently classic

"recently classic"

tiny universes

hang from the beads of

your necklace. playgrounds are empty

now and the children lay sleeping in

modest beds.

you can wear their masks.

over the arches

"over the arches"

stuttered gasps rise from

your lungs and seep into the walls.

each caress acting dually as a

step towards pleasure and

regret. my fingerprints leave

ruby paths across your body.

you are named after a flower;

(poetry in the making).

tracks and tracks

"tracks and tracks"

i've felt you deep in my bones. laughing

now, louder than before. your cracked feet

rest in a pan of steaming water.

over coffee there are words of productive

gardens and wooden homes. i close my eyes

and breathe in the cruel bloom.

whatever keeps you sane,

whatever keeps you satisfied.

fascination

"fascination"

you could grin at the faces i make
or wrap your fingers in mine

but you laugh in a peculiar way. your old
jeans with holes from the clumsiest moments
still hang from my bedside.

i just wish you knew.

after all

"after all..."

keep looking into mirrors, just waiting

for a companion's reflection to appear.

unpronounced words and promises trickle

from your lips and into hidden, shadowed

shoe boxes. when your fingers press

against the pen, do you feel close to dying?

from here you look like a fool.

hardly sleeping

"hardly sleeping"

next time you spread your wings to fly

remember that i told you about

birds in the sky.

little black flittering outlines diving through

chalky white, set ablaze in the spectrums of

radiant light.

n/a

Always starting over.

Just more excited each time.