Friday, December 4, 2015

I can't remember

She called you little baby
You named her your buttinsky
She said I love you
You said I need you
You said I'm eating whipped cream to fight the loneliness, want to
come over? want to
sleep over? I need you
I need you
I need you
I need you
She asked do I have to wear clothes?
You said no.

The picture you texted me that night,
the picture of your face
that I love, that I said Aww, hello there love I miss you
she must have read my mind
because she, too, she said, Aww, hello handsome I miss you.

And I cant remember
if hearts break
from hypertrophy or fail
because they are weak.


I miss you here

I miss you here, you
a thousand shards of light,
while I bottle up rainbows--
the energy condensed will explode

your love is a windup clock,
I turn the gears, synchronize
my needs with your highs,
curb my cries on your lows

when your drink is bourbon on ice,
my drink is your coming
and leaving

to silence.

(anodyne 10/25)

promise of the end

I would like to welcome death,
hang a banner on my door,
prepare a feast,
write a poem
for an old friend whose forgiveness I seek.
But I am afraid to tell you,
afraid that you will be afraid
to see the gentle promise
that death brings.
Because I can love you
and leave you at the same time,
this life in which I do not fit
 there isn't enough time
to dig up all the dirt in my garden
to pay back the debts I owe,
the loves I needed and destroyed
the bodies I touched and breathed in and touched and breathed in again every time
 I work my fingers deep into the earth,
this life of coming
what's wrong with leaving
this world
at once too much and insignificant?
I leave it each morning
I get to wake up with you,
each night with the cool breeze moving
through the windows,
 across a sky so dark space
is just the beginning,
what a relief
when time stops counting in days
stops being lost or wasted
on measures of things.
instead it just is. and I just am
together we exist until
we don't. that is death's gentle