Tag Archives: dream.


will it be warm,
but just cool enough?
to lick
your cheek
with the missing breeze?

will they cry
when they see you?
returned bruised
and tired,
and her eyes are different.

will she fade
again; a breathing ghost?
like all the times
before; a sobbing,
decimated tree log.

will the bites fade
before they see?
where pain meant
a relief and a fuel
to find home.



no longer convinced,
she was his soulmate;
the years were not wasted,
but time was limited
and every second
filled with love.

maybe he’ll get
more than one.
because endless years
of barely speaking
amounted to a lifetime
of, ‘i love you.’


walk with me
to the edge
and grasp
my wrist;

as we free fall
into the bliss –
we have waited
all the days.

i told them
i don’t care,
and you stood stoic
and warm;

walk with me –
i want your hands,
and eyes, and brain –
hold me in our silence.

do you trust me?
when a single tear
from a week alone
holds all the weight.

i slept last night
and you weren’t there,
but your hand was in mine.
and we slept.


i know:

i must be
the only one
looking for that
black escape.

always a surprise,
but not unwelcome;
filling me
with a tired warmth.

like the night
we stepped off
the edge
of this world;

and finally found
a space
just for us.

i yearn to lie
next to you again
and melt
into the smoky, thick
comforting clouds.


you smell
like blu-tac.
it makes me
your veins
as twisted,

she sounds
like rubber.
it makes him
and remember,
she was raised
on a farm,
with pigs as best friends.

he looks
like music.
it makes me
his veins
as twisted,


it’s cold today,
but the birds
sailed by.

my backbone chilled
and my eye sockets
are weakened.

his lips felt wanting;
her lips were small
and bruised.

the wind mocks me
and again i am
a soulless ghost.

but if merely a ghost,
why do i feel
so cold?

let me go numb,
until this passes
and something else remains.

more or less.

i need.
of [you]
and more
of [this].
and more
of the look
in your left eye
as i collapse
into your grasp.

i need
of the [defeated]
and less
of holding [back]
and less
of trying not
to say all the words
i’ve kept inside for years.

more or less,
that’s what
we’re waiting for.

smirk ii.

i met this boy.
and he smirks
like you.
like you both
knew a secret
and the secret
was me.

only you would
never share
and never tell.
i didn’t mind
your smirks
and i let you
keep the secret.

i met this boy
after i had
met you.
now i wonder
if you met him
would you let me
love him
like i loved you?


that was a hard
thing to do.
like always,
this paradox
of wanting
so badly
that in the end,
i don’t want
it at all.
the loss when
it is over
is not as deep
as i used to feel.

the surprise
is your trademark –
it happens now,
or not at all –
and i always
if part of you
hopes to miss
the chance
for complexity.
like the forlorn
longing is worth more
than confused frustration.


i see your images of folly
and circles of wisdom;
i see the route ahead
blocked and porous.
“how do you sleep at night?”
he asked with an intrusive,
political smile.
“what sort of cat
asks for supper before 10am?”
“what sort of fox
opens the door like a gentleman?”
lick his throat
and watch your fingernails
down her back.
watch the black liquid
pool and flood.