Oh,

you came early,
but you didn't come a day too soon.

did you?

now tell me yr teeth dreams
tell me why i dream sad dreams

is it because
i miss you
while i sleep?

tell me,
what do you see
when you look at me?

am i lucid
a clear-cut mystery?
i see
right through myself
do you?

Can't help it.

i can't help but think
we are reaping the harvest
of our pruned limbs,
months of freezing skin,
now, with the changing seasons
we thaw and tangle together,
and yesterday, in the park,
i repeated to you
the line in the book
about the ebb and the flow,
how each painful cut into the heart
opens hollow space
to hold more joy

i have never understood life
as much as i do right now

fever dreams (let me in)

tell me all yr fever dreams
tell me anything
I like to listen when you
speak
watch the shifting of
yr teeth

give me yr smile
i'd like to stay awhile
longer
soak in
the smell of yr shirt
call in sick from work
lurk, let me creep

lie awhile
let me curl in
yr body yr skin
let me curl in
yr hot fever dreams

Sadness

Sadness is
a gentlemanly
kiss.

My Favorite Things

My favorite things,
lungs half filled with smoke,
windows down,
heat turned high,
the flexing muscles in your legs
as you tip-toe across the kitchen,
feelings of anticipation
for next time, the ticking of the clock
late mornings,
favorite things, touching,
the hair all over my body,
the hair all over your body,
that story i tell
over and over
of when I jumped off the balcony,
the memories
of magazine ink and coffee,
dotting i's and crossing t's,
tracing the map of scars on my belly
firsts, seconds,
beginnings and ends
the magic that surrounds us
the mystery

I, island

yes, you've kissed many strangers,
and me, well,
i've bitten the necks of many passers by

honey, we seem so much alike
but maybe we shouldn't sleep together
tonight
we have too much time
on our hands
we're two different lands
two islands

You
wear your map
on the skin of your hands
while i,
i am a no man's land

A secret hiding place
for buried memories,
reminding me
of how good it can feel
to keep still
and be discovered

Ponies

One time
you set the barn on fire
half out of anger
you did not know
about the dogs

the stench of smoke
after
made me weep
and the ponies
did not walk
for weeks

Reincarnation

Despite all,
I always thought I'd come back
as an oak tree,
or a blade of grass.

But the trees are bare,
and the grass has browned.
I am still alive
while the seasons change.

Now I feel myself
as being here only for you,
less a part of this earth,
rooted only in your movements.

it happened

it happened, then,
the night spent walking the streets
past pyramids
blurry
triangles in our shifting eyes
and we barely touched
we barely talked the entire night