I AM/SHE WAS

A ripping strand from the royal blue ‘good luck’ scarf from Mongolia that hangs above my bed—

I am worn. 

A piece of pavement that couldn’t bare to belong to the rest of my driveway—

no tire stopped to notice her, she was luminous next to the unbroken,

I saw her.

I am—

She was,

Beautiful. 

Untitled

I am a prop in your highly illuminated kitchen

Cabinets that could fall behind themselves all too quickly

The back drop is a pretentious view of the Hudson.

I am a ghost of quiet irking

A pressed sunflower on your desk

I am the typewriter above it 

Weighing it down 

Bursting any ounce of volumetric bubbles 

Silent decibles

Between petals and paper

Stem and leafs 

Between metal and seed

I am the freckle on the small of your back

Only a lover would see 

Christmas lights and sand dollars

I am your homecoming. 

Piano Hands and State Capitals

When they touch purple dotted knees, and music sings 

They are called piano hands 

And you wear them so well, not like a glove 

But like a birth mark your mother begged you to see the doctor for

But you refused 

Because that mark was meant to be there 

And it came with me

Just the same as petals on sunflowers 

And the small stars 

History teachers call capitals on the map in the front of the class room 

Those dotted lines from point A to point B 

Stretch much further than the four corners of wilted paper 

And much wider than knobby knee caps 

Purple dotted, singing,

Touch me touch me 

Knee caps

Granite colored clouds hug the skin beneath your nails 

As if you had been picking figs and dissecting summer into small 

Petri dishes 

Divided by weeks and 

Differentiated by the color of the steam 

Which formed above each

Oval shaped memory 

We had visited Pennsylvania 

Didn't quite make it to Harrisburg 

But we were damn close

Thoughts at 3AM

I am a coiled ghost of snake skin
A coat worn by the quiet monster that slithers its way over the top of your quilt, beneath the cloud of guilt you sleep beneath. 
Or within. 
Within the flume of "please let me forget you. I blame myself. It was me. It was me. I shouldn't have pissed you off like that.. Oh no, I'm feeling woozy again, baby will you pass me that little spoon? I need to.."
Boil. 
Me down to clean and pure, a bubbling pot of freedom and translucent innocence, I never thought I could feel so...
"high! Baby you're too high up! Get down. The neighbors will see. They'll wake up. Oh no, please don't get mad, please sweetie, we can just go back and make some more.."
Love. 
A prescription filled daily, I could never look myself in the eyes, but I swear to god when the blues were playing in the diner that one winter night, it's usual burning lights that turned me to stone,
Only melted me into a soft and tired bag of bones. 
I was nothing but a relaxed mixture of 
"movies. I'll just tell her I'm going to the movies and sleeping at a friends. No, she won't find out. Will you just have some fucking faith in..."
Me. 
Was a word I relieved from my vocabulary I was her. 
A set of eyes and hands that operated on a mechanical submission of true and false answers.
Skin like a scantron
I failed every...
"test. A drug test ? You fuckin' kidding me ? No, I won't piss in a cup for you. What am I to you, a .."
Child. I was just a child.
Who knew such a small amount of time could be equal to such a big front door.
Slammed shut so many times,
Shut on every season, kicking down the renewed offerings of daylight, trying to rise up, but I can't...
"reach. 
The broom! Or that book! Something! There's a fucking snake in my bed". 

Close to Me

I long to kiss your mouth, your hair, your ankles

Not with my lips but with my eye lashes 

Because something so delicate

Could never feel itself 

Eyelashes rarely kiss other eyelashes 

So please baby, let these light bristles, labeled protection kiss you

I am seeking for the perfect measure of delicacy 

You hold it in your finger tips 

I crave the nourishment of your midnight fits;

Come closer 

Hold me closer

I need you closer 

Baby stay close

Stay close 

Stay close 

To me, to me, to me, don’t fucking let go of me.

I want to swallow you 

The way a barber shop smells, 

Of sweet and sleek, slippery slathered sun beams

On the hard wood floor of my grandpa’s closet

That doesn’t even have windows 

Barber shops always smell like sunshine 

I want to fall into the cave of your kisses 

Keep me inside of your mouth 

Let me use your tongue as a blanket

Your gums as pillows 

I sleep so soundly,

The tickle of your eyelashes,

Reaching down your throat 

I am slipping down your throat 

I am so close to you 

Close to you 

Baby stay close to me 

January 5, 2012

I have an oral fixation
For the grinding of your bones between my molars.
Tripping over cerebral nets
That form a staircase beneath
Photos of you and I
That I can't seem to shake


Shaking off past damage
I can't say we're holy,
but God dammit
I prayed for someone
Who has hands like you.


I'd like to fold up every night with you
And save it in an envelope .
I'll mail a thousand kisses,
At the end of every year
I can taste you on my teeth.


There is a beautiful tone of forgiveness
That slips beneath my skin
Every time we scream at each other.
Im sorry wouldn't suffice on either ends of our shared spectrum--
But the hands you place between
My shoulder blades
Are the same ones I squeeze tight
Both on the mattress
And in the car,
We'd drive for hours.


I have an oral fixation
For your eyelashes
As floss.
Cleanse my gums of
Each time I left
I always came back.


I traced sentences with my fingers
On the back of your hand
In your basement
Where alcohol has stained the counters
Where our voices splattered the walls,
I wrote,
"I am still in love with you."