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each sleep we rehearse the goodbyes of somehow not enough despite this night before where we wondered how we touched each other so deep with only these fingers that have been known to fumble and not know what to do next with the bra the brail the frail human soul stuck in our nails that … Continue reading
there are losers for whom everything will go right those who do not curse who have not spilled a drink in their life who cannot get sick who will never know what it means to watch a fat fly fall off the wall only for it to cling back on indifferently who will not go hungry … Continue reading
blooming beams beauty until we think that eventually it too will suffocate the space and have no where to stretch except onto itself consuming the limbs that once gave it reach to you in hopes of help from this eventual devastation spring begins again without a bounce * when i have nothing left to lose … Continue reading
you are all of the universe summarized but still going unrelenting even after you are gone to stretch your hands into the baby of tomorrow holding hope and sunlight from the dark inside that will one day reign reflecting you again the rain and the bow the colours and the black and those that stare … Continue reading
you will never touch me for i am a universe and i am everywhere except sometimes in i looking at you wondering where you have gone and why there is this space left between us * you will need to know yourself for so much remains not understood including this including yourself including all of … Continue reading
at last this first lending itself to a second second though you have dined full of emptiness and the paradoxes of making sense the listlessness of it of explaining it of talking about talk and how it isn’t much of how which you are told is hi in another language which you never learnt in … Continue reading
i promised to i and the i in her that sits at the rim of her mouth swinging and drinking slurping my words back in silence that only a dead bird knows how to sing that i would never let her fly away again for there is no room for carry-on or the life packed away … Continue reading
The following was inspired by Elizabeth Bishop’s “One Art” which in some ways feels like a lone loan into herself, or maybe me. * The arts of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Spring will wilt first, then … Continue reading
i am starting to see you in places we never visited but where you still leave me first at a subway that closes as an oyster with the smell of an ocean wafting though i am miles away which is to say i do not know where i am only where i am going which … Continue reading
there was a death on the subway though they made it to their stop and saw a girl looking back at them through the darkened glass and he wondered if there was something on his face and he remembered he didn’t eat all day because he was told that it would be better to lose … Continue reading
