I’ll Tell You

i hate it when you have to leave–cause waking up to you in the morning is the best way to say hello to the day. I know I make mistakes, I often point them out when I do. But if I recognize a mistake, why can I not fix it? Instead, I repeat myself, regretting every rotation . I seem to be stuck in a perpetual loop of dissatisfaction with myself. And I don’t want you to get caught up in my whirlwind. I care to much about you. I still have miles and miles and miles on my path to enlightenment. I hope you will share the journey with me. You don’t know how deeply you have affected me. I came from such a different place than where I am now. I’ve grown to know true passion, and how sensitive it makes you mentally– I used to be stone. Feelings–those were so mysterious to me. And my some of my old tendencies leach into us, but I don’t mean for them to. I’m trying so hard to become more thoughtful, more understanding, for myself, and in turn for the ones I love. I do not want to die unhappy. I try my best. Sometimes what I think is my best is really only half of it. But I’m still learning, still growing and getting stronger. I want to make life better for others. At times I do not show that that is true about myself. But deep inside my heart I am certain–that I want to make this world better. And nobody has to believe that. As long as I know it for myself. But what you must believe in is my love that has grown into a jungle, mysterious and deep. And you must believe, no–you must know that at the center of all that life is you. You who have awakened in me all the dormant sparks of rapture and affection. You who have introduced me to a world not so sharp and bleak. You who have been the sweetness, when all I had in me was bitter. I love you.

In Headlights

The back hand of Silence
strikes the lord of my mouth,
and all that comes out
of what I wanted once–
is an awkward afterthought.

The Silent Siren and the Din of Daemons Dining

Set aflame
with the snap
of flint-like fingers

She had the voice of a siren

and he had the eyes of a daemon god,

so it is said.

it lit up the road
from here to Alexandria

There was smoke
that curled like slaves
in earnest
in innocence–

–felt in return
by its youth
as malice

It was a starlight savage gaze

towards which she danced barefoot.

His warlock beckoning.

Waxen, it melted
in vela fashion:

the contents
heating, bubbling, bursting
into rivulets that flowed
deftly into blood lagoons

She breathed her heaven breath in his ear,

and he consumed her

from the inside out.

They smoldered.

He ate her dulcet vocals

and thus the Siren was

forever put to silence.

It witnessed the death
of atmosphere,
simply watching it burn

But in the
twisting end:
asphyxiation

And there were hoof prints through the ashes.

So it is said.

Between Earth and the Underworld

Laudanum bottles
burst and rain down
from the skies to cut
and paste a lover’s overdose

She can’t get enough.

It flows a fount into
her mountain mouth
equipped with temper,
open,
devouring

She distinguishes
from the breaking distance
and the “space”
that was naively needed
for peace.

Invalid

A pass code corrodes
the tongue and
corrupts the lungs
from whence it comes
like climax

A passage denied,
she will have to pay
some fare,
with her
hands and hips
her hair or thighs

Her earthly wares
a sacrifice,

With Charon
she shall lay tonight

Mourning Doves

we take flight
together

our lips move light
and humbly

songbird notes
stream ’round

instead of words

the visual suppresses
the sound

It says that
you and i my love
are birds.