if i could i'd take down all the stars
we've ever hung false hopes on and melt them in my pocket.
i'd squeeze them
until i felt them liquefy and slide through my fingers.

we are made of so many blended parts:
amalgamated combinations of each other and ourselves
until i can't look in a mirror without seeing you
drawn across my face.
you are my most precious ( Read more... )

you're a hundred miles away but i can feel you tonight.
it's warm out for once and the sidewalk's dry
and despite everything else, i like the way the wind feels walking alone toward home.
when every song i hear reminds me of the way you kiss
it's hard not to think about it.
the walls recall how soft you spoke
and the floors miss the charming way you ( Read more... )

who took who back?
i watched four ships sail away from us
and now we're here
treading familiar water again.
i missed the channels of your hair,
the way two bodies caught in salty twists and waves
stick
and stay.

i missed the company of hands and arms,
a synchronized heartbeat
as we bob
considering each other's goosebumps
and the way water drips off our ( Read more... )

it's nights like this i miss you most.
it's too quiet where i am
and i know you're somewhere a lifetime
and a thousand miles away--
it's still bright out there,
still warm enough for t-shirts
and you're laughing.
if i strain hard enough, i like to think i can hear you.

*

our angels pitched themselves out my bedroom window.
they got tired of being unpoetic,
( Read more... )

i wish they made personalized air fresheners ( Read more... )

sometimes i think about all the ways i could do better...

i sit,
pull threads on fraying pillowcases
wait with heavy boots
for hours.

sink
into hollow sheets- 
no reverberating frames or bedposts.
silent
with my pile of yarns.

i shake out the blues like a wrinkled shirt,
dab a smile on my face with a paper towel and wonder
if it's worth it
but i go on
fooling ( Read more... )

what a sickening double standard-

i stick pins and needles in my feet

just to make sure i feel uncomfortable for this,

check and check again that i

covered my tracks,

erased the evidence,

didn't leave any fingerprints.

but you're so crystal clear

i see my own reflection perfectly-

serpentine and smiling,

like a liar

or a martyr.

she's waiting to be noticed

( Read more... )

(for arnold.)

such, such are the joys of fucking a writer.

on hands and knees

panting, sweaty

debating the merits of emily dickinson's m-dashes.

"i (thrust) think (gasp)

she was a (come!) genius!  (sigh...)"

legs in the air, in a perfect "V"

fingers clawing at the grass and dirt of backyards,

thinking about how often annie dillard must of touched herself

( Read more... )

you are a million different kinds of bad news.                                               you're the kind of news that                                                                             jumps headlong off my spoon into my cereal while i'm eating in the morning then slips inside the shower while i'm washing my hair ( Read more... )

see the way glass windows make the city

light up like a solar system.

see the cars that march down tremont

like battalions of ants with glow in the dark antennae.

every so often, boston goes silent.

for ten, maybe fifteen seconds

not a car horn or human voice ricochets between those window-stars.

it’s thick and dark and satisfying.

listen to the sound ( Read more... )