didn't you know that there are words resting upon your brow and tangled in your hair? I wish to reach out and pick them off like berries... I fumble through the woods and rest upon your jawline where peace dances with sadness... I launch myself across your lands to search for the sweetest and rarest of phrases... I climb curves of your face and ( Read more... )

i search and collect... i pause and wonder... i stay still and move un relentlessly... the words are still silent... they have not thrust my mouth open and urgently rushed out like a multitude of little soldiers ready to attack and win a trench war... their bags are not yet packed... the pauses, comas, exclamation marks have not been loaded onto ( Read more... )

there are times when your skin does not crawl... when your words do not move... there are times when times achanging everything but you... and you are frozen in the most unconfortable position they have ever known... you gaze, gaze at the sky but nothing comes... even a darn lucky falling star to catch and hope for a better day... there are times ( Read more... )

the bathroom stall romance... the intertwining of abusive drunken words spread out on the white sheets of walls... the annunciation of indefinite truths of human relationships... the grasping at a connection where one does not exist... in the most intimate of spaces the marker, the pen, the knife mark arrive at the same conclusion... they copulate ( Read more... )

i wrote some words to you to rid me of your skiving image...

i will look at you with a different same eye... an eye changed by warmth of heart... prancing loving feel... a safe and sound... an eye of turbulent patience... a smile of soft embrace... a thing done to me in its undoing shifts me off guard... time...

he speaks of the great economical reform... the taxes raised and the taxes cut... the wounderous systems of healthcare transformations that will set all things right... he talks about the education system and how our children do not know their A's from their B's and what it does for the future of a generation... he talks talks talks about change ( Read more... )

They are the discarded lot... the half-priced bargain people... un-mendable... ou can find them in garage sales of coffee shops raising up their rusty voices in discussion with their maker: the other god... the not so close, uncle of an aunt, the-part-of-the-family-we-don't-want-to-talk-about god... they are the pieces that fell off of our assembly ( Read more... )

there are things you were to me you will never understand... and because of this i cannot leave this place and follow you to wherever you go... you are now far away and i must stay here... this is too dangerous...

this reflection is so akward at times... i look in the mirror and judge every inch of my body ready to section it off and sell on the market like pork or beef... i analize unconctiously and price the feet, the stomach, the thigh, the arm... i compare with the meat already on the market and try to see if the fees are fair... i act like the merchant ( Read more... )