That held
secrets, poems scrawled
on lined pages, pages
that had to be folded just right, she said
so she could fold them all up together
and put them away
again. With each breath,
she undressed, her naked truths
burnt my innocence
like the cigarette
that left its smell on her fingertips;
I whispered slow, her lips
trembled
as she read
my poems out
loud.

We got high,
breathing out the foggy night
like an exhale, after sucking
from a burning pipe,
driving around was no easy feat
swerving past scarecrows and
a string of doubt.

1
Drowning in hollow desperation,
all I am is
filled with want.

2
My nakedness, my hollow
spirit knows no bounds, always
taking and taking and taking and
wanting to give, she swallows
the empty air
and settles in, towards the river
that rose in the streets from the storm.

A paper poem
scrawled on a paper plane
She's kissing me, she's
doubting herself, she's
telling me I was just an experiment.
A quiet cry, she muffled
any intention of making love.
A crumpled note
a paper poem, tossed aside
like an ex-lover, but no, she won't
call me that, she won't
call me, and she stopped
looking for me in the halls
long ago.

In the hollows of that
crystalline night
we went skinny dipping
under hanging leaves, trees
The thick black sky
swallowed our nakedness--or whatever
parts of us were so bold
to rise above the water.
I watched you from my
shallow tomb, hoping you were
sneaking glances, too. Moonlight
scaled your
naked limbs, and I watched, entranced
at the river's edge
where ( Read more... )

Between the
stroganoff and the rain,
I loved her all the same--
her laugh that caught me off guard
in all of the strangest ways.
I remember all those nights,
home cooking, and home
is where she said she'd keep me
all those years ago.

We were sitting in the restaurant ( Read more... )

I like these duck-less mornings
where we sit by the creek,
absentmindedly throwing bread until the fish bite, nobody's talking but
maybe it's too early, maybe I need more coffee, maybe
we're all just thinking about ourselves.

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I rushed across the street
There you were, waiting for me
with your car and your dog and your paints, I missed
summers like before. And you drove us
up my boulder mountain, the one I cried for
when all of Colorado was on fire.
We got lunches
and sat by the river, it wasn't
our river but I fell for you just the same.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.

I have so much hate in my lungs, in my
hands in my veins.
Lately I've been trying just to make it go away.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.