My Kind of Beast

?  

Yes, yes I do.

 dance away 

thought, 

sweaty rivulets,

the water of this place.

in their music we are

alive.

?

yes. 

compulsion

it felt like he cared

cunnilingus

change. 
what a powerful thing

C. it's you now. it happened.
don't leave.

it will show
i do care.

this must be the place

near the library doors

 
"he doesn't like love stories"



. . . that is not what this is.


the book is heavy as i carry it home.

rub

So Much Happiness

By Naomi Shihab Nye

It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

But happiness floats.
It doesn’t need you to hold it down.
It doesn’t need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records…

Since there is no place large enough
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.

i am dedicating this to A.S.
i love you girl.
may we always be as carefree, loving and free as we were that day on the beach.

18

lust
in Times New Roman, font size 12
innocence
in brackets, a stage note
aghhh

lyrics
in messy hand, crumpled paper
meaning, veiled, longing
hhmm
fingers, as they harmonize
yi-yi-yii

eyes, oh
rehearsed knee, nudges yours
trembling, fingers round your ribcage
yes.

( we -the actors- sculpt our realities from the palpable product of your imagination)

ma

i no longer know 

how to sit still

the distance of time

within the timezone

of the mushroom girl

i am left  -mapless-

within the timewarp

of the carbon emission

i am left  -lifeless-

within the timelaps

of our separation

i am left  -dreaming-

within the timecapsule

of our bodies

i am left  -hungering-

within the timepiece

of our society

i am left  -bedraggled-

within the distance

of time

i am contained.