x2

revisiting little rituals
walking around bends
turning corners on the past
and filing away
memories
that haven’t yet
been made

placing gently these layers of
moments over
moments
that once spoke deeply
to the irons and folds
within

i am cautiously
carefully
creating these rituals

cautiously,
carefully pressing deeper
into this weight

cautious, careful
of where it may lead me.

~

you are
haunting me
(just a little bit)

hiding inside my simple
brain and stretching
outside of me
in words
and tangled
memories and
soft thoughts
and funny
smiles

you are laughing
and we are catching each other
across dozens of criss
crossed words
piling up and over the
outside,
lingering against
the night

i have a hunch
you are
something

something extraordinary
and something
finite

something full and
something
fluid

you are just right
and you are
here.

(when i touch you there’s words on your body.)

3/3/06

tittle tattled through a folly
dumped lovingly into your
palm green hands and
shifted vicariously among
streets and vacant lots
bigger than us
and wider than the city

walked harmoniously through
slick beaten rain and
washed shores above
rain coats and waving patterns of
wind, i think

i may have ended abruptly
used my words to a wounded
disadvantage and
blazed through your triumphant
abandonment of me
in fields of thick
strings and taut bulbs

this is the place where
elements of nauseating
uncertainty fold
larger states erupt
time moves faster than
clocks and
i am no longer sure of
my awkward steps

DON’T BE AFRAID TO WRITE.

DON’T.

JUST. DO. IT.

7/14/05

this is what happens when the days are quiet. 

when the stifling comes only from what you know is here, but won’t show itself quite yet / when people are telling me not to be so silly, that my words will prove me wrong / i’ll meet someone and get all gooey and ga ga and barf all over the carpet / i’ll stop listening to songs by trespassers william and i’ll close my eyes so i can keep smiling / but i say, i like these songs, however dark they make me feel / and i’ll write about what it is to feel wistful and i’ll / make them see that life is not always one color or the other - there are deeper, darker places we usually choose never to go / and they will pass me by and i will stay here / what happens when all i want is to take myself out onto the beach and read my magazine, listen to my songs / they will not tell me these things about love, about what i will be like when i find what they want / because i’ve found the place in which these needs are forsaken / they are removed like holes cut out for the eyes of a mask / whatever money you charge me and hours you take of my time, i don’t lose i only gain / and from this i am still becoming / though stuck i am never misplaced

living the dream.

having one of those days where all i do is get coffee and buy groceries and run errands and fall madly in love just a little bit more with my beautiful city.