lungs

give me love like rain

softly at first

then all at once

then give me life like wind

slashing against my skin

screaming with its cheek against mine

then take the ocean

and take the waves

and give yourself like you're drowning

leo

my thoughts are of

the daisies’ flush

after a day pressed

against the sun

my bones

rattle: suggesting themselves

similarly sun-kissed

and honeyed

rivers and figs

seeep down. fill me. tear away. become becoming. sweet honey. champagne to celebrate life. melody, what a wonderful name. so then tell me the shape of these things, i can only feel them through my skin, but there’s fat and muscle and tissue in the way. ah, here i can trace out a bit—

skeleton and an image of the earth. the planets, a rock and on it are more rocks. and behind it is god’s vanity; where she sits and looks into her eyes and sees sadness looking back. it’s us. we are the sadness, peace to the parents who have lost their children. peace to the lost children. i don’t know anyone who is missing, but i know lots of lost people. i also know lost buildings and lost land. how terrible it must be to be a river and become lost

i mentioned the cuts on my feet. well, i took off my shoes to enter the church and now i’ve lost my shoes and i’ve lost the church. but look, i have my feet

i am lost without you, means i am looking for you. but don’t you look for lost things so doesn’t that make you the one who is lost? maybe the saying doesn’t make sense, maybe i should say: come find me. but doesn’t that mean i am hiding? come undress me. why won’t i come when you call. take off my shirt cause oh i miss my skin. i’ll put on my sunday best, this painted skin. let time leave messages too, for future loves to read: i am this skin, this is how i stand before her dressed at the vanity with my hair down and my shoes off

vampir

i’m intimidated by forever

eternal sounds daunting (divinity) exhausting

i just want to love today and love the way you slip like a memory into my dreams. new and unseen but a part of who i am; i never let go that never died in order to grow that never left and stayed and came again. but it wasn't forever—

just yesterday’s sun not wanting to leave, maybe that’s okay as long as we bathe in her glow and the sun, she’s in on it, staying up with us past out hour, like kids who are curious what love is

like a metamorphosis

i set out part of me

i set out to rot

magots turned flys

turned spiders turned birds

sweet birds who thought god

gave them the chorus

but maggots turn flys

turn spiders turn birds

fine

then ill listen to bats who

see with sight not sight

that when she sings let

there be light be light

i’ll be the one to have seen her before

coffee & tea

tie-dyed whispers i’m

the milk and you’re the honey

always forever

apnea

some point in the night

she starts dreaming

and she starts believing;

that what happens tonight

is the rest of her life

serenade

my feathers are bright

my skin is painted

my antlers stand like bonsai

but if you keep your hesitation

i’ll give myself to pan

and make my bed with oaks;

then you will call out evanescence,

being, of my many names, the only one you know

when i go, don’t bury me; just leave me in the forest

i would like to whittle a flute from my bones

and dance round the pines in a bone body

little rocks to get stuck between my skeletal toes

and as i hop from place to place

it’ll sound like wooden chimes

and since i’ll have no lungs to play

i’ll court the wind and write her rhymes

about the pines and things i find

inside the skeleton meadows

pinhole tears

black ink new eyes

paint on me pastel skies

first child one of three

lay me on the poppy

faded sleeve stolen guise

pour in me golden lies

take my child first to be

lay me in the poppy

tattered skin eulogize

under me the mother cries

first born finally free

lay me under the poppy