money

This surrounding
People
Ten sticks thick
We're still
A blade of grass
A polished stone
Wind or waves
Tumble us
Like we're nothing
Money
Doesn't buy
Eaters of resentment
Or guilted regret
Crisscrossing of hands
And legs
Mingling of spit
And hair
That faith won't save you
Every step forward
Grass
Or pebbles
In the sole
Of your well worn shoe

anyway

I love you
She said
Under her breath
Heavy with the longing
Of water for dry land

She held her palms up
Waiting for the chains
To fade
To the light grasp
Of lover's fingers

She knew
He wouldn't come
But she dreamt
Of his skin, his warmth, his love
Anyway

you are where you live

Why do I love
The peeling paint
Of aged walls
Every square inch
Witnessing history
He reveals to me
Little at a time
Yellowed clippings
And butchered papers
The more I see
I can't look away
Wanting to run my fingers
Under colored furls
Down his neck
Along the graceful curls
Of exposed extremities
This house holds
Secret paths
Behind sealed closets
His coat of primer
Slips a little in the light

green flame

Flicked green flame
Slow reflection
Off the unlit bulb
My eyes trace
The dimly shadowed ceiling

Or the floor

My upside down everything
Remembering how to feel
Sharpened talons
Across this pasty white skin

Pulled hairs
Contrast of love lost
I am as I was born
In screaming solitude interrupted
Only by barking dogs

Tell me
Scalpel the red cord
Don't wait
Don't

Wait
Dress in rat skins
And slip to the unknown

That man is perfect
Though
Casting his own shadow
Against the millions of texts
Scribbled on pearled white walls
He listens to his own voice

Never changing his mind
I'm in the wrong footprints
Wishing they fit
At the top of my lungs
Counting sand grains with my back

The night puts me to sleep
Like every night
Dreams of unpast time
And suturing wounds
By the light of green flame

If only he understood
Every thing
Every

Thing

His voice reminds me

My own tells me
Stop being the mat

The bulb shimmers
To on