driving me to different heights
i feel as if i am breezy on the edge
and a breath from your lips
could tumble me off

when i fall
i wonder what i
would think of

i wonder what i
would miss

glassy eyed on the rocks
my pupils reflected
your shock

sitting by the water
i have been enveloped by fear
the ripples assuage my doubts

i don't think you understand me
i don't know if you are trying
i think i have to go
like the words i am giving you
do not matter
and yet you do not dismiss them with out care
and it is difficult to pinpoint why i am so
upset

when i am talking to you i feel guarded as if
i am struggling to push myself back to a me
that you liked and
that you knew and
i achieve it in your smiles but I question
why? why do i squeeze myself to fit
in your perceptions? why do i care if my proportions
make me a more clearly defined stereotype?

you wear your knowing of me like a badge on
your t-shirt
as if you are proud to have figured me out

(do you get me at all?)

stardust (oneword)

sprinkled from your fingers

i look up

and it is whirling down around my

head

ringing it 

i place out

my palms 

catch it

catch it

like snow flurries

it is all that i see come
tumbling down

as you wiggle your 

fingers

and 

laugh

staring at the empty computer screen at night
my face begins to melt
slowly i slip to liquid like butter
stuck beneath computer keys

the fluorescent light attacks me
as if it is a transparent white guard dog
baring its teeth in anger
with audible low-pitched growls

i feel hollow

watching the breakfast club with my family

i suddenly have the urge to do something
anything
i can feel the buzz
why not make out with a Bender
in a closet
or eat captain crunch sandwiched
between slabs of
wonder bread (aside from the carbs of
course)
i want to run through
the tiled ugly halls
of a suburban high
school
to feel that surging
rebellion
lets go get high in the back
of a library
and give away our diamond earrings
living the stereotype of defying
stereotypes
climbing through the ceilings
until we fall

leveled (oneword)

i am sitting on the beach
staring into the sand
and thinking

with my fingers out palms down
i level mountains

(the waves crash in out
slow and monotonous,
a kite sails above me,
the froth rises to my toes)

headbands (one word)

headbands

i do not wear them
because on me they look weird

much more suited for english
schoolgirls

once my brothers friend
helped me brush my hair

put it up she cried
chastising me
i told her it would not look good

she gathered it all back and elasticated
it with a snap
oh you’re right
she laughed

sometimes i feel so out of things
and not even the touch
of your fingers on my skin can pull me back
and my mind wanders to things i should
not think of and i scare myself so that
i want to push away and the darkness
and silence consume me until i cannot see
and i cannot breathe so i pull closer
but in that pulling lasts only seconds of joy
because i am not there and i am not close
and i cannot make myself close or there
i cannot get to that feeling of warm happy safe
and i am scared

outsourced (one word)

we lost our jobs
with each other
i no longer walk up the stairs
and you no longer grill me constantly
you are done
your position is cut
slashed
we did not have the funds for your upkeep
or the
patience

the level of trust i have
cannot be held between my palms
or said with whispers
it needs to be screamed from the top of the
stairs
it is as long as the jump from the spire of the empire
state building to the middle of the earth
tumbling through until
we reach china.
in my dreams
i breathe it out
with each word

i can string words together
but will they have meaning
if i cannot touch my toes
does that mean i am not flexible
that my words cannot withstand
the bending breaking point

monday

listening to new order at lunch time
i am drowning in your shirt
and you skip the next period
because you are too caught up
in the way the light falls on us
as we lie on the green grass
and close our eyes

fort (oneword)

building a fort
to keep you out
and keep us in
against the cold
we wear our fears on our
fingertips like spikes
to prick the skin of our frosty
enemies
inside we breathe life
rosy cheek colors under the
snow

toadstool (oneword)

walking in the summer
i saw a toadstool
next to a dim rock
its little red cap
breathing out years of
fairy tales
it looked so beautiful
yet so poisonous
idyllic
as if you touched it
you would perish
for the scene could not be
disturbed

what an odd thing
to sit and touch your skin
in the darkness
to unravel you slowly
with my fingertips
and feel the warmth creep up my bones
every pore in my skin
is open
and my toes
they wiggle

we are not speaking
and it makes me so happy
to not have to hear
your grating words in my ears

we are not speaking
because i do not want your delirious drama
and i will not cave
at the breath emanating from your liar's lips

we are not speaking
because i will not release for you
because i breathe better
when you are not near

To Sing For You

i have sung for you
and you have not heard
the words i chain together
carefully

how can i capture you in a rhythm
in a line of lyrics?

i have sung for you
and now you have heard
silly words rhymed together
carelessly
slip effortlessly off our
tongues

when i realize,

i am both so ecstatic
and so sad
and i want to cry
but i do not know if it is from
happiness
(that i have found you)
or
despair
(that i will lose you)

maybe
both.

centerpiece (oneword)

the centerpiece glistened
under the stares darting across the table.

She opened her mouth to speak. But the words would
not come. Like a leaky faucet she dripped
incomprehensive syllables that were
not understood.

across the table
someone rustled
in their chair

Domino's

across the water
the building's roof is jagged
i had not noticed this before
the waves hurry by heads down and the
people jog left and right
and i am struck by how much the blocks
have disappeared
worn away slowly

sweet sugar factory
was it today that you ate too much of your
own stock? and like a tooth you wasted away?
chewed down by your tenants?
a cavity to be filled with
cement?

trails (one word)

i leave trails of hot breath on the windows
and when you take a shower the steam illuminates
them as they become
a shade
lighter

i trace my spirals on your skin
and you say i leave marks
that the paths
my fingertips have wandered
tingle

as you watch me walk away
your eyes etch zigzags on my back
and i can feel your pupils
traversing the
distance
wandering for
hours

oldoldold poem but i kinda like it

Let the cold erase me

blot out my imperfections

mute my murmurs

with the

steady fall of

safety-scissor cutouts

I’ll disappear

As the minutes twirl

like snowflakes

cover me

in sheets of white

in empty silence

I’m going,

but no one will know I’ve gone

(not completely polished yet)

when i was born
i did not know what to say

the world
jolts
and jostles
and the wheels turn
and the eyes roll
and the cash register dings
when it opens
and the parks do not close until dusk
and you can sit on the benches
and dream in dark green
and sometimes pale snow falls from the sky
and you can erase all the awful the dirty
and for one day everything is pure

my body
is growing
i was once so small
and now i can slip through the city
in rattling cars holding myself
close so i won't escape
i was once so quiet
and now i can fill a page with words and ramblings
can speak with my eyes my noes my hands
i was once so soft
but now if you touch me you can feel the resistance
the measure of what i let under my skin

the world
is not
known
with its hundreds of faces
waking up and brushing their teeth
in their mirrors, looking into sleep covered eyes
and its rainstorms coating our faces with
water that rushes as if it cannot wait to reach the ground
and its music
swirling around in smoke tendrils
wrapping our torsos tenderly

when i die
i will not know what to say

(oneword)

sweet and sticky
you drip off my limbs
like caramel
encasing my arms
in sickly sugar armor
giving me
cavities

jealousy

so much nervous energy
built up in the tips of my fingers
i need to check
and check
and check
and recheck
i cannot be happy
and angry simultaneously
but i want what they have
and they are so lucky
and they are so good
ugh
they are so good
so much nervous energy
my fingers are bounding bounding
and stumbling and jumping and i can't change
my mind because its going in circles and only
a second has passed and i want i want i want

sympathy (oneword)

i am sorry
dear sir
but i cannot find it
i am looking under the folds
of your skin
and behind the sockets of your eyes
but in the purplish blue gray greens
i am just losing myself and i cannot find your
sorrow
though it lurks around your ears
dank musty moist
i cannot find it in-between your toes
or amid your teeth

Decay

your fingers

touch my skin

and with each breath

it withers

lightly

carefully

it wastes away

when I was five

the idea of compost

fascinated me

that something so solid

could

break down to

earth

I wore
that sweater
and
threw it off
when I heard
what had
happened because
I just couldn't bear having
you under and
over my skin

slowly she slips out sultry
her long lips lengthy and
releases regulatory
word wisps willowy
and taut and tired

i don't like
this distance
it doesn't exist
anywhere but in my mind
and in my fingers
and i want it gone
because you feel like a stranger
and yet you are not
because i know you
and yet you are not
because i know you

Morning Commute 9.17.14

Under the manhattan bridge
there lives a girl.
No one ever sees her
as she crawls on the underside
the unsteady sweep of car tires
her metronome as she sings
but
sometimes
if you look down in the crack,
right where the water becomes
the park on the bank
right before the highway with its whizzing engines
(pumping pumping pumping
turning turning turning)
you will see her sea glass
eyes peering up at you
and they will grasp you
lock you
so that
when your Q train
pushes forward
you will let out a gasp
and wonder what has
given you
such silly
ideas

she'll shatter if you
touch her
please don't drop her
she is fragile
and your fingerprints
are smudging
her
tainting
her
her clear surface has grown
dark
with all these ringed identities
she'll shatter if you
touch her
please don't drop her
she is
fragile
she is
agile
she is
fr ag men t e d

the wind whispers in my ears
tales of another time
in which i could exist

there is something romantic in the solitary
way we can weave our own vortexes
in pockets of white noise
envelop our sound

we all have our own worlds
and yet we glide past each other
so peacefully on the streets

we are black holes
spinning
with dark emptiness
beneath our feet

sometimes i feel so close
i don't know what
to say to you

like loose words hold no meaning
in comparison
to what i feel

interlocking fingers
intertwine their way
through my hair
and my thoughts are seeping on out
like pretty words behind empty thoughts
sometimes people do not
say anything to me and it is
as if they are not accepting
and sometimes they do but its
more like rejecting
but i do not care
i have learnt this about myself
i do not care
weaving my toes and my hair into braids
that will crisscross my skin
traversing my body like railroad tracks
untraveled because i will not open
them to everyone

old agenda book mumble

tear me
apart
with
your
teeth
into
shreds
so
i am
no longer
whole
for i
am sick
of
these
cognitive
processes
of
these
things
i am expected
to do and
say
and in pieces
i will be
saved

imploding
looking in far too many mirrors
to catch the reflections
tailor
bite it
bite me
straighten the back
long neck
straight eyes
hair on your shoulders
stand at attention
like a teenage girl

don't knock down my point
why is that
necessary
to make this a war
to push me under

the girls crowd in the mirror
and their elbows jab each other
away as they
all redo and reframe and retrace
the lines on their faces
they will define them
give definition
the lady at the counter said

and i hate that they do
that they feel like they have to

and i hate that when they don't
their faces look so empty
white and pale
and
frail

shining
i lean against the
black fence
crisscrossing
you are warm
tell me stories to make
me laugh
the green grass is deep
i am full
i am empty
both hungry
the prickles along your chin
you will laugh
and look at me
you are pretty
delivering these words
and i will shhhhhhh
because i know
that i need that
affirmation too much
and you know that
i do
too

we sit on benches
my legs stretched across yours
and study the function of
biological molecules
with the bridge snaking above us
and the distinct subway sounds
rattling our doors
people walk by
jogging yelling to each other
fishing talking on their
cell phones
we swoon under the sunlight
with warm fingers and legs and
when we close our eyes we see
orange

i fit in your side now
i have built myself a niche
you lead me
i want you to lead me
because my hands are new and stumble
over skin like first day introductions
the bumbling words caught in my throat

the darkness hugs
me pulling in
my stomach tighter and
tighter
it locks itself inside my belly button
and expands

soft
so soft
soft enough that when you push
your fingers against it
you can feel the cushy resistance
as if you could lean your head into it
and instantly
dream

my head is too fuzzy for this
back and forth
for this coiling of my ideas
into spring bottles

for when you open them
they will pounce out
and unravel
and unravel
into thread
and your hands will be tangled
and stuck

10/8/14

and now you've gone
you've left
me in
this calculus cage to
rip my nails on derivatives
and claw along tangents
crawling crawling crawling
what would I do if I had
to revert
back to those days when
this planner
was my all if I had
no you
to look to

(poem made from words said in class discussion)

what happens
when
you share to
pick and choose
the good and bad
what reasoning
for
growth and change
all knowing
we feel

agendabookmumbles (from a few weeks ago)

is there
a level of not
caring we can go to
where we plateau
-------
there is a girl
who lives under this
table
she keeps the pages of
her books taped to the
underside
and she sleeps upside down
with her hair
like a curtain
-----
I CAN SAY ALL THESE WORDS
BUT WILL YOU NOTICE THEM?
BECAUSE THEY ARE SCRAWLED
SO MESSILY AND MY HANDWRITING
IS SMALL FAR TOO SMALL
FOR YOU TO READ
----

the light shines through the window
slanted and it reaches for the dust motes
enveloping them in
the gold of ancestors long buried in the ground
under our feet
there are tunnels we cannot see
where all the men who have had enough
and the women who no longer want to deal
with ideas
live.
they stand upright in the soil, barefoot
and walk under times square 42 street
all the way to brooklyn their tunnels
lead and on mondays they slip out through the subway
tracks and join the rest of us

please don't tell me these things
that i do not want to hear
the words that traipse off your
lips slowly
like you savor the red pock marks
they leave on my skin
each consonant
rams its way under my nails
and each vowel raises my pores

i do not want to know
i do not need to know the others
that cut us out of magazines and dutifully
pasted us together with their glue-sticks
i have ripped myself from this scene
i am no longer so
two-dimensional
not so easily shaped by
safety scissors

i have broken out
don't give me words
that lead me back wandering
no crumb trails of pleases and could
have beens and they wanteds

i am done
i am new
and i do not need this
to shackle me

because for once
i am outside of the boundaries

for once
someone whispers in my ears words
i've longed for

and this will not last forever

but you will not break it

and this will not last forever

but you will not break it for me

i was so dark in
that room
but the light folded
softly
the grey dog eared edges
i do not know if i know
my own walls so
well
and you, head-up
staring at me
you were just so
fascinating
so beautiful
your face was so pale
your lips so shadowed
your eyes so curious

and you were mine
and i could touch you
and i could touch you
and you were mine

i am so scared
because i am locked
in this pocket of space
and when i touch my hands to the glass
i will push but i cannot get it to go outward
it just comes inward
the goosebumps are rising on my neck
and there is nothing that i can do

i've figured the way best to cope
is to never think of ends
not of beginnings
like the longest possible extension of living
in the moment
because otherwise it is all too painful
i don't understand
and i don't want to think about it
and you can reconcile future and memories
but i do not want you to be a memory
(even in those times of
slightly psychopathic needs for pain
and drama, the selfish wanderings of an
empty mind)
i do not want the time to come
when i cannot ride up to your home in a rattling
subway car
and crawl into your bed

you change me
when i am with you
i feel that i am someone different
i feel that people who know me
would cock their heads, lean back, and squint a bit and say
soledad?
but these people know only my outline
the fuzzy shades, the opaque shell
i feel weak in the best ways when i am with you
feel bashful and timid and fragile
feel loud and raucous and teasing
you change me
when i am with you
i feel that i am someone different
myself

Saturday Morning

don't make me look
back
on those
pictures
i am so close to you
and yet
i know
i was not that close
so close

and yet you pretend
that nothing has happened
somehow you are my twisted muse
i have written
songs
about you
i have written
poems
so many poems
about you

and i will not tell you
and you will never know
and you have lost the right to know

(and you will not tell me
and i will never know
and i have gained the right to grow)

Poem Pages

   in the writing 

on those pages

   i just fell deeper

and deeper 

   wrapping your

words around me

    like a 

comforter against

  the cold

I was enveloped 

     by my

      love

-------

I hate

how susceptible

I am to the niceness

of being liked

I have my priorities

straight

don't get me wrong

I'm not stupid

but sometimes I feel

inklings of tempting

that I 

wish I could just 

shut down

------

I don't know how to say it

how to drip these emotions

lace them with heavy

words of meaning

------

I never thought I could grow this

comfortable with someone

enjoy the company of another so much

I cannot believe that you

think that without you I would be the same

don't you realize the effects you've

had on me?

each time you touch me I can

feel my eggshell skin breaking and 

you pull me out before we collapse

down laughing

(if there is one thing you are 

not it is shy)

at least not under my eyes

with your long black lashes.

when you grasp me

close I feel that I may

wonderfully 

disappear

in the space between

your arms

the last night of summer

ephemeral
like if you tried to catch in your hand
it would flicker and slip right through
your fingers

lying with the grass
smoothing at your sides
for that last time when you
will be quite so full of freedom
breathe it in
because it will be long before
the weight on your shoulders
is this light

the hot summer streets
i wear my sweater to keep the skeeters off
i wear my sweater to keep the skeezers off

washing it off in
a cool shower
let it run down the drain

the fear eats away
at the pit of my stomach
gnawing gnawing gnawing
(i hate this
i hate this
i hate this)
how are people so frightening with
their soft fingers and gentle smiles
and their words
reassuring you they do understand
in their eyes
a void of incomprehensible
incomprehension

i am not ready yet
please don't push me forward
i am not ready to stay up late nights
poring over books and words
and so many rules
so so so
many
rules
they all seem ridiculous to me
why does it matter
inelegant
colloquial
childish
we are children
we are children
i am not ready
i am not ready
i am not ready
please do not make
me go

i knew some
day
those words would
limp
off your lips
i just had that feeling
that we would click
like a carseat belt
like tall black heels
on cool dark tiles
and slip and slide
our syllables together
behind dopey grins
and lidded smiles

i'm not surprised
at all
just elated by the
sound
just enveloped by
the meaning
just in awe
in it all

riddle me
the spans of my stomach
are concave
and with my
eyes
i push them down
farther
oozing out
like toothpaste
containers
closing
and trying
to remember

why couldn't you be right in front of me
it would be that much easier
if i could reach out in the dark
trusting
malleable slippery blackness
between my fingers turns my hands
into night

it frightens me so much to call you
but here i am
dialing and shaking on
the tiled floor
and after the beep
my voice shaking like a baby
i do not know how to do this
i do not know how to do this
i do not know how to do this
don't you know?

and my crackly voice gives me
away (i am literally shivering)
in a way that words written on paper
can't
cahn't
in a way that words written on paper
cahn't

you dip in and out of my dreams
like a dancer
whirling around
please slow
i need to touch you
to stop you
to see that you are real
and you have not become
a figure lost in outline
that i'm molding with my fingers
i hope this is not long enough to break us
we seem strong
but this is not what i am afraid of
(yes,
this is just what i am afraid of)

October 29th

the curve of her stomach
has reversed
press your ear against it
and you can hear the
little thumping
feathers whisper louder than this
ants tread harder than this
petals float stronger than this

so breakable
it is
you are
he is
she will be
in the palms of our hand
and we'll pass her
around
and smile at her toes
that will walk someday
and tickle her stomach
that she will one day suck in

the curve of her stomach
has reversed
press your ear against it
and the thumping will be
gone
grown louder
in your arms

turn it on like a faucet
close it shut with your teeth
for your hands are now bound
behind your back
and your feet are now tied together
you have
given it all and
you
are gagged
do you realize?
do you care?
i'm writing in circles
and i cannot find a way
to take a turn

brave (one word)

brave
am i brave
when i lay my hand
across your chest
and i can
feel
your heart
beating
hungry
hun gry
hungry

whisper me words
in silver droplets
that will fall down my
follicles
and make the strands
stick to my side
(dripping
with you)

train ramblings on sundays

driving driving driving
me insane
who's to blame for
the slow slipping of my mind
-------
that exhale
the sigh of relieving
my chest grows light
the heaviness to my toes
reaching with pale fingers
       i will try
that was my first
promise to you
before my eyes shut to sleeping
death and woke
-------
    tracing designs on my shoulder
my skin suddenly becomes endless
the trails you leave people's
pilgrimages
          the journey across the tan
              to the homeland
          the path across the skin
               to the free

do you know how much i would give right now to
touch you?
to let my fingers reach out and brush your skin?

for five minutes together
i would fold up the 3,452 miles
like a large piece of paper
until it could do nothing
but flutter softly in the wind

i am so glad that i did
not share this with you
because its true what they say
when they litter you
with fear packed words in
elementary school
telling you to never share your
passwords
telling you that friends change
and trust slips
life lessons through the pretense
of computer safety
i never liked those classes they gave

i realize now that you do
not deserve
this part of me
the access to this depth
within my brain

i will not risk to have
this oasis ruined
for it will be all lost
for nothing to gain

(all done at my hands)

no, i will not risk it

the truth

we both stole glances
much earlier than
we were willing to admit
and shhhhed our fears
with distractions
our advances with
eyes closed

when this is over
i hate to think of it
i hope it will never come
i will be broken
i know i will shatter
how will i even bear to go
to school and move on and function
sometimes i worry i am
giving you too much leverage
for when that day comes
because you could ruin me
because you already
can

my post-its trail across my room
littering nos wants maybes
i cannot expose myself so well
and yet i do
these sporadic late night bursts
of pen paper thought and the free
association
thinking that i will not hold
within the walls of my
head
they cannot be contained and
so they spread
criss crossing my space

(i used to find them trapping
like paper chains--
but now
they help me breathe)

to be fine

breathe easier
with me at your side
breathe heavier
when i am gone

and then i understood
how bodies can talk
without words

in those small finger gestures
and the spiral circles drawn
across my back
wandering aimlessly
as my mind
collapsed

silver lake snippets

emanating from your lips
I take the long way home
those summer evenings
by the lotto playing men
lit up in the bodega windows
like a ninety degree christmas
----------
if i curl up close to you
     will you   e n v e l o p e
                     me?

Will I slowly mesh into you
     so that I am a part
  and you cannot let me go


   for how can you distance
      your fingers? your arms?
        your toes?
  ------------

easy easy easy

it all seems so easy

when you take it away from

all the whispers and all

the eyes that don't care 

                                                               about             

if we can exist alone

we can exist together

if we can exist a part

we can exist within

coalesce

coexist

conform

your heart is beating under my hand
the thumping
the breath

it races
and i think of
the disconnect
the space between what i see
and what your heart is
telling me

after, i think you
hear my beats
they are drumming so loud
and you laugh and
i turn away blush
smile
into the dark

i am fluttering.
but happily so

twisting my tongue
as if i didn't understand
the own workings of my mind or

the way time is so
flexible and inflexible
and bends with each breath
and each moment
how long is each silence
how long is each note

the fingers are fluttering
and so much is left unsaid
but understood
the fingers are fluttering
and so much has been read
and understood

how had i forgotten the sound of your voice?
when i heard it
it sounded so new and i could
not stop a shiver running down my spine
with all the newness
you are so different
i have not heard you
before
its funny how the unknown
gives us goosebumps
its funny how the unknown
gives us more

her hair brushed her nose
hey girl
how you doing
how much bang can you get for a buck?
dirty terrible words
she spits them out on her filthy fingers
the soil writhing under her nail beds
hey girl
hey girl
lemme look at that
whooooeeeeee
she spits
she spits
on the sidewalk
hard fast
painfully
tug in
tug in
tug in

in
in
in

in
in
in

hey girl
hey girl
lookin fine
lookin fine
you are looking fiyennnnneeee
she is not fine
and she is not looking
her lids glued shut
her feet tumbling
she is mumbling
she is mumbling
she is bumbling along
she is stumbling
she is stumbling
she is stumbling along

hey girl
hey girl
where you goin'?
don't be like that
don't be like what.
she grimaces and grinds
her teeth
she grinds her teeth
she grinds her teeth
in a circle
encircle
(she grinds her teeth
in a circle
encircle)
encircling them in her mouth
before she chews
she chews
encircling them in her mouth
before she'll choose
she chooses
encircling them in her mouth
before
she'll lose
encircling them in her mouth
before she'll lose
she loses

i don't really know what you're thinking
step out of the shade
and reach your hand into the
shaft of light
into the
shaft of life
you give me words
but i don't believe them
these are not presents like i imagined them
and instead i see them edge forward
like lines off a script
just because you believe
doesn't mean its true
we can fool ourselves
we are best at fooling ourselves
driving ourselves into nothingness
because its the only way
we can go

trickle down
the front of my shirt
sickly sweet
like the icey you bought me
spotting me a dollar
when i had only spotted you

a double take
they call it
because that second time
when you look
you take what you thought
and then so much
more

and how many times
do i have to tell you
that i do not want to hear it
you can no longer gossip
as if i am not invested
because i am invested
you can no longer flirt and joke
and act as if i will not care
because i will care
you seem not to see the wall
i am building
or maybe you just ignore it
but i'm pushed up against
it
breathing hard
the sweat pouring
down my temples
and i will not let you in
and i will not let you in

i want to be different
i see the girls behind you
fingers grasping your
toes
hair left on your shoulder
are these the words they
said to you?
are these the words you
said to them?
extract me from these times
don't hang me on the wall
i do not want to be
linearized into a two dimensional
memory that you only think of
when it rains

the tree was taller than her.
and she knew that
when it hugged her in
its branches
there would be no
return.

they call her maple
now
because that is the tree
that sucked her up
the june day
when she could no longer
bear to take her place
among the living.

when the green leaves covered her hair
they evaporated the tangles
and her arms
and legs
twisted and turned and
suddenly her limbs were
heavy with the bearing
of fruit
with each full moon
her eyes
would close as knot holes
and ripe with
bursting
the spheres would fall
at her feet

her roots are buried deep
into the ground
each toe a network of
connectivity
disconnectivity
deleted vitality
she sleeps better
in the night
when there are no sounds to distract
her
and she can open her eyes
and
see in the dark

we try to dance around the subject
and i will tell you we are spot on
at evading
the nature of our cries
it is our specialty
beyond the stretch of our toes
and the way your eyes linger
on the door

secrets

is it possible to love the distance
that separates you from what you love?
i was thinking today
(as i rummaged through the bathroom cabinets)
about the conversation we had
in dunkin donuts that time
(when we stayed for hours, the first
time we really talked) and how you
said to love someone
you would have to be prepared
to die for them.
(i am embarrassed to say)
that, knees on the blue tiles,
i thought
if (when) if? you say i love you
to me
it will mean so much
more
(than those whisper
text wisps
elementary in nature
middle in thought)
can i even imagine it all?
(by this time i was rubbing
the floor with a
sponge)
the physicality?
the words?
recently
i have felt like i am slipping
like your interest is something
i need to earn
to be loved
(could you love
would you love
me
?
(would i love
you?))
to be in love.
as if it is a place on a map
that you can pinpoint
with a blistered
finger
that you could stand on
palpably
and state
i am here

with my fingers to my lips
i will watch you
protect myself
protect yourself
the wind whispers
i am scared to surrender myself to the world
so i will tuck a hair behind
my ear instead
tuck away my fear
the possibility
roll my tongue around in my mouth
brewing trouble
between my teeth

try the end of my fingers
to see if you can reach my heart
i am a level
and you must beat
every single part of me
you must prove yourself
(though victory is but a
passing joy)
i will not be conquered
(though i may lie)
or subdued.
try to push me down
and you will fall
t
u
m
b
l
i
n
g
down.
i will not collect
your pieces

(work in progress--continuation of the architect's daughter?)

Her eyes flew open with the beeping in her ears. She did not always awake to beeping. She knew this. But in her half conscious, unconscious, subconscious state it was hard to wrestle with any realization and the clearer solution was to roll over and sigh.

She did so.

Through her thin walls she heard Alex groan and toss sideways. Her door blew open a crack and she could see him on the couch with his hand dangling down, hanging. Each finger the weight of the world. His eyes were closed and in her heightened drowsy state she could pick out each little vein on his eyelids as if she could trace them with her fingers; with her eyes closed.

Shivering, she arose and pulled her white blouse closer. Maybe if she pulled tighter it would envelope her and she would poof off somewhere distant. Somewhere warmer would be nice. Greece always sounded appealing. Especially with the souvlaki on her tongue and the baklava on her plate. Her fingers tightened.

“Morning,” she whispered. But it was not for her own enjoyment. Or the benefit of anyone else. She just felt an urge to breach the silent. Let her letters print black lines in the white noise, the empty soundscape.

Feet thudding on the ground she rose mutedly, sidestepping so the door wouldn’t creak. Tiptoe. Tiptoe. Tiptoe. Tiptoe. Heel toe. Heel toe. Heel toe. Heel toe. She stopped in front of Alex. He looked so tired. Her arm suddenly emerged from her sleeve, fingers wavering, trembling. Would she touch him? She brought herself closer.

There was no pressure when he slept. She was in complete control. Complete control. She was in complete control. Her eyelids fluttered and she wished she were braver.

Greece, wouldn’t that be nice. Swirling white sleeves. Beeping for days.

A vibration from the other room sent her scattering and she snatched her phone, edging past. When she got to the apartment door, she looked back. 

Blue white seas. Eyelid river deltas. Hanging fingers.

Alex emanated another groan.

She hurriedly unlocked the door, a metal rectangle of paper memories, and clicked the frame shut behind her.

you honestly are not worth my time anymore

this is the conclusion i have come to

because i do not get

how you can not understand

how you can pretend to forgive

but still so blatantly do not understand

i will run my fingertips over my bare stomach

and you will laugh and tease me but i will sense

your bitterness and i will not surrender

to the carefree

i will distract and i will taunt and i will evade

and pull down my shirt hurriedly

lets go get ice cream

as if everything is alright

as if everything is not alright

and still you can not understand

i will never expose myself to you again

and i will not reach out.

when you reach out it seems

your hand hits gel

and reverberates

like ice cubes

in a plastic ziplock

when you feel the wetness

feel the cold

and pull your hands away

and they are dry

that is how we are now
(and you cannot understand)

i hope it all goes well
is it possible to cross all your fingers?
and all your toes?
i am not superstitious
but i am a little
stitious
and i will wish every 11:11
and i will close my eyes and hope
and dream with my eyes open
with my mouth open
with my mind open
i will try
i will try
i will try for you

cloudless (one word)

a cloudless sky
is hard to come by
a darkened sky
that holds all lies
between its black and
gaping teeth
it seems exposed
but look beneath
the clouds are not the only things that hide
below the stars and
wind that glides
it holds all whispers
that softly-speak
it whisks it all
away
and seeks

i reach to turn the fan off
before i realize
i want to be cold
because in each frost
bite of my tan skin
i can revel in the pain
and base my anger on
the foundation of each prick
my fury at you

why can you not understand
that i do not want to be opened up
and i do not want to be examined
and you do not have a right to my personal
innermost
thoughts
to the happenings of my days
i have not
signed a
contract leasing you
my memories
to gossip over like a story
to taint and twist and disfigure
until i can hardly recognize them
as they stagger out between your teeth

i am a private person
i will not tell you
i do not want to know
(this is my utmost policy)
but you do not understand
how could i not want to know?
oh dear, please world
how could anyone not want to
know everything about all the things
that make anyone that happened anywhere
anytime and what everyone was thinking
and feeling and what all of us are thinking and
feeling
so we can all be masterminds and pull together
all the pieces?
you act as if you hate it and maybe thats why
it digs my nails into my skin
because i know you don't

i am a private person
i will not tell you
i am a private person
i do not want to know