Vocalize to me in whispers
because you know I cringe at anything above one,
your disappointments and
I swear to you
I will try to feel sympathy
but all seems unlikely when
my own chords have been out of tune
for
so
long that singing those songs of comfort
can't even
reach the birds.

is a suffocation within the heart,
seeping into the layers of skin and through veins,
into the heart where it's home at last.

When I was young and soft ( Read more... )

My hands, like small travellers
weave their quiet
touch
across your silhouette
and find a home on
the continent of
your skin.

When your eyes
found mine,
I understood the soft language of all
the rivers that
surround you.
For I had become
their stones.

Tracing the patterns with our fingertips,
we mocked devotion once before when
all love was quiet.

Acquisitions have been made from this
and these thoughts place me beneath the ground
where I can rest with you inside your ribs,
nestled in your heart, and I can become quiet once more.

I found it there.

Time is a glorious proposal; it is both natural
and a thought someone once had.

God and our adjustments.

The days and nights would never end if we didn't have our time.
The lovers would be happy. The addicts do not care.

Because of time I can say it has been almost a year
since I have written.
anything.

truth and beauty
please
destroy blindness
and sorrow
and agony.

As the night moves
like a swift black cat
with jade eyes
and twitchy ears

the language I hold
seems to disintigrate
to grunts
and unmistakable expressions

and we've got questions
of life
and love
and peace
and harmony
and all the rest of the important things

and all we can say about it
is the truth --
we can't do it all alone.

there is never enough time
to scream for life
and at life.