we cannot escape from being torn here.
you want everything and you should have it.
i want to get paid to be inspired by life and i can have that too.
our world is made up of crazy lost lovers in a web of connections
reaching out of memory and into a future of the unknown.
i am awake.
the serpent of today has devoured dreams like it's own tail, but cannot hide from the fact
that the days are like elephants walking in a line.
it brings me to tears that the link between moment and distance is a thin line
held by the thick trunk of memory and longing.
it makes me want to hold your hand and have you rest your head on mine
and kiss my cheek and tell me who the people in my dreams are.
i want to disappear into the ether and reappear in your dreams
and in your mind while you bathe.
then reappear on your tv screen.
then reappear as the woman i see when i look into the mirror with my eyes closed.
forgetting the feeling of missing you.
there is no sound.
the sun peaks through an early morning mist falling like lace around my window.
you wake me up break me down make me move make me weep.
a transit of constellations plays from the radio.
running through the woods against the steep contrast of trees to sky.
the feeling of being dressed in a bow.
we shared some things
sending letters wrapped in the fingerprints of many nations.
when i got home a feathered mess lay within the folds of time
drinking like a honey-suckling sailor
swallowing the dreams of masticating origami doves.
happiness translates to cannibalizing the secular delusion
driving to the temple with belled ankles and roped belly
hands to sheets then breast then head then knees to cheek to beat the weather
i didn't believe in destiny
the modern dance of fisted friendships
clinking spoons against crystal
making music in an alley
tolling bells for those that stop to listen
and with eyes closed
dance over the shaking heads of bobbling women and agreeable men
sloppy and loose to the control of eyes that pray
it's the synthopated choreography
that runs over the teeth of strangled women
pasted upon a scroll of fallen petals
my voice is reverberated in black ink
sporadically penned by a controlled bleeding
blending into soothing
like a child blends chalk
like a rainbow's disappearance into the distance.
like shyness to laughter
dissembling the resonant sound of your voice.
the faint whisper of rain sizzling in the low sun
like a full red moon confusing the day with night.
undressing the shallow mistress of adventure
while blindfolded human flesh and desire
lay underwater in love.
it burns a negative image onto the edge of my teacup
breathed into existence by shadows.
the circus of paradise is revealed in the droplet upon your cheekbone
a sip of power
calling your name
dividing joy equally amongst the abundant
what would it feel like to truly know you?
to lick the porridge from my chin.
you are brighter than sunshine
and i have the eyes of an albino cat draped in human clothes.