the
depths of my heart beating my air like
abandoned window shutters sending my
blood to boil inside my sinking stomach
and it is her
wanting to touch my skin with the gentleness
of the outside breeze that softly whistles a
chill across our lips as i give her my last
deep brown butterfly kiss and fly away
with eyes tightly concealing an unnoticed
scream
18
fear
a particular warmth is felt quietly
by my face trying hard not to see the
day go by longly without the night
flowing over a sky mirror reflecting
her way
a day is past watching me fall
forward clumsily fighting for one
more peek through her hair which
is held apart from her eyes with
her perfectly long fingers
i can still hear the sound
my mind made when her foot
found mine under the table
quickly caressing my passion
like our bodies had lain together
mightily swimming in a sea of
the naked flesh of our new
tastes
and when she reached out
to my hand for forgiveness
i pulled tinily inside myself
and my hand fisted as my
head shamefully laid me down
19
her pretty knows answers to every
unspoken melody that chimes within
this softly hiding universe underneath
all these walls of solitude
that voice always finds me, touching
me with tucking sounds of swollen
breath and cool rememberings of the
last supper with her song
she speaks unseen and unknown to
these waiting eyes that sweep through
the darkness that answers me with
the knowing of one more day’s life
in a nowhere living love
i survive tumbling through this heaven
searching for her planet finding gate
after gate of no one’s angel
i soar with the help of her wind and
try to find where mouths echo these
little suns that keep covering me with
their collapsing holes of deep shining
forever
i am alive peeling layer upon layer of
stars tasting the bright night of all her
vast sensations
i am alone and only her pretty knows
20
when worlds collide like dust finding
home, the heart encloses upon a new
blood of every moment spoken in silence
that lives in an instant that grows
louder landing naked on a sweet morning
sound that is all your forgotten miracles
and when miracles remember that you
forgot me they create a free flowing
pulse of a true unslept life that makes
silence louder listening to your earth
lying by my dangling waiting passion
of forever skin that just keeps revealing
more worlds where sweet mornings
collide into silence and you remember
home
21
an american woman
below this hole of a bruised
night stands an american woman
holding all the glory of her
own tragic song where every
finger sings its softest hair
to cry small splashes of skin
that clutch another harmonious
moment where a community of
feeling sprouts from me little
fires that wash themselves in
her endless pools further
sinking inside every moving
picture she creates
and as the night falls deeper
upon us like the light writhing
its reflection on the cleanest
puddle of sky there is a newest
pleasure of now visiting the
end of yesterdays and tomorrows
and though she bursts like a
rainbreath every time i try and
look behind her gentlest cloud
of dying i always find a sun
that kills the lights that
protect her stars from the
most silent storm growing
into god
and heaven is held as close
away from us as the night
healing itself with the color
of the newest day painting a
form that will become a constellation
of gigantic lovers being an eternal
cancer for all the world to rest
under
22
i find myself buried in the golden
wash of the spring’s most fertile
landscape with her lying beside me
breathing her quiet laughing life
into me with the message of her
head to my chest listening to the
rhythm of her possession
i had forgotten how close i had
come to feeling silent with her
beside me and that was the only
time my eyes could have ever really
held tight to sleep but i made
certain that they held nothing but
this fullest vision of certainty
and though i know that memories
i hold of us will only become a
myth that is somewhere farther
than dreaming will ever allow me
to go i believe in a place where
a seed of silent sleep was planted
from which a leaf of new life will
grow into finally allowing me to
close my eyes on anything certain
23
closer to god
her and i glow like a cotton dream inside
the flicker of an old movie projected on
my reverie where we danced illuminated
on top of a sea of black and white stemmed
pianos that fed every note a better reason
to keep falling further into the grace of our
trembling bodies counting every melodic
moment
and we explored each key with our barefooted
knowledge that no song can be arranged to
grow eternally over the entrance of our
fruitless eden
and watching her body sway presses so deep
into my chest where i learn the enormous
paleness of an untouched heart that displays
the hollow beat of a barely breathing man’s
dance as a constant reminder of the lonely
film flapping its noisy finished sound of
ending
and this person i was when i knew to wrap
my arms so tightly around her world of life
has nothing left in him but a dying scent of
opening christmas and the dust that ages the
taste of her deepest kiss
and sometimes i can still feel her dancing just
behind my emptiness filling me with light as
she guides her footsteps so tenderly into this
heaven she gave me in her most beautiful way
of flowing through the thick walls of music
that follow her
and here i am watching her song lead me into
another perfect silence where i will ask myself
for eternity what more could this man desire
but to be left with a silent image of divine music
that dances closer to god
II. pretending water
24
my
every morning breath exhales the joy
that stumbles over our last night’s discussion
where we touched with fat beautiful words
spoken in our thin quiet voices to calm the
ache that stains our forever that can’t chase
the miles from in between us
the distance has caged our hearts from
even the sight of one another’s eyes and
that alone swallows me wholly into this
stubborn earth’s cruelest stretching mouth
to pry me so slowly away from your voice
and throws me to slide down its dead sound
throat to await falling on my empty impact
that will spill my constantly flowing words
onto all that we will lose inside our love’s
prison
and if not for your tongue baptizing my
nights from their occasion to wander into
my chaotic solitude i would forget the certainly
of your lips pressing heavenly closed around
my flesh resurrecting my spirit to part my
soul from its sea to flow with less turbulence
into the pulse of your white life
and i will awake again in this glorious morning’s
prison knowing that the voice of truth is never
too far to hear me escape into you
25
the then i was passed the us we
were on the way to becoming the
now i can be
but before now becomes a can
be and you become a was i would
like to slowly forget what we
meant to us then
so beautiful were the clowns they uncovered
every moment a newly discovered dream where
sleep was just… when