archives

relationship

This tag is associated with 140 posts

Ticks

Dear dear, I am not good at making friends. Most of the time, I make it only about it myself, about my faulty focus, about how I am doing this new thing, how I don’t want everyone to know but listen to all this unknown, how even now in this tumbling self-centered supposed selflessness, I … Continue reading

Holidays

Dear dear, These were the holidays. Such is a banal, limp sentence, an obviousness that would knowingly ignite even the most unaware moth. Yet it is blindingly true. These were the holidays. These were the gasps of us among the giving dishes, the bony fish, the dogs that do not feel like the dogs we … Continue reading

Ga ga goo go

Dear dear, In nine months, I am happy to be the first to present to you a healthy, though squawking birth, a weird congratulation for the act of insemination of a thing that is meant to be more than a thing, a failed bird, a busted egg, an omelet if the bird-part sticks faster than … Continue reading

Constipation

Dear dear, I fell out of love with you. Please don’t get upset. Please don’t stop reading there. Though sometimes an entire relationship can end in a sentence. Don’t let ours halt at the period. Instead see the white around it, and know that there is always a space after the tiny dot. It may … Continue reading

every everything

here again in the small stop of your loving i am reminded that this is a tiny end just before you kiss me   it will not happen yet there will be the happy years the faulty focused years where i catch myself in your thick warm arms or in the mirror smiling what can … Continue reading

what you get when you get what

how do i hold this hope of not fearing that one day you will find the happiness that i see in something beyond myself   is it constraint to want this thirst at my leg   is there freedom to be left among the rain   her thick warm soul then everything these holes that … Continue reading

baby

no body has ever given birth only a way to push away from the awkwardness in this conversation dull belly bending dumb into dusk birch trees peeling from your nails the birds outside singing in each office cubicle until they are burnt by the fire fifty years from now drowned in the flood 102 years … Continue reading

florero

i am a still life. i am a potted flower desperately bending to any sunlight, including your own. i am the water that dies through breath. i am the breathing, bold discussion on how art is useless but so are we. i am we trying to not try to spend the day in bed. i … Continue reading

man y

do museums exist for men? does art only know the women? where are those crinkled, collapsing sacs of flesh torn and asunder under things heavier than water and lighter than the sun? who draws their balls like rubber comets? when will someone demonstrate the sexless unsuccessful, the losers, the nobodies, those that deny categorization for … Continue reading

webbed fingers

to feel your weight, to kiss you in every lovely place, to watch your gentle grace, to listen to you saying i compliment you too much, to compliment your voice as you say, to sit in silence, relaxed, stretched as sunlight, as flowers flowing, as straight when morning cuts in golden and generous mumbling, please, … Continue reading