A street light beams down onto a large tree

Throwing a deeper shadow on the dark grass,

almost as thick as

Film noir.

Squinted eyes can make out two blond dogs playing

under the tree.

There's a fenced-in pool that's filled with dirt and weeds,

Vacant and abandoned, and growing, thriving.

Just beyond lies a stretch of motel,

15 rooms,

and two rivers meeting at a fork.

Four men sitting around a small table in their metal chairs

Chat about fish as they pass the spitting cup.

Spit. One fish.

Spit. Was bigger.

Spit. Than I'd ever.

Spit. Seen before.

The legend, the dream.

The moon in crescent.

There's ice cream dripped on the porch of the motel house,

as the cicadas play the overture -

broad, long, slower, somehow, this time.

King size room for you?

Double bed?

Or two?

Time isn't linear.

We've been here the whole time,

In this moment,

In two different rooms, where

we don't love each other


What is beauty for

What do I do with it

When there is no one to share it with

But enjoy it myself

And wallow in a vain existence

What is the purpose

Without a mirror

I cannot even see my beauty

A single stemmed blossom cannot kiss the other

buds on the rose bush

I may as well have been ugly

For what does it matter

Emotion and mental growth

Knowledge and creativity

Health and inspiration

Are the only things I need

Not this beauty

Not this pink blushing flower

In a bud vase

On a table

Closed behind windowless walls

And I look to you

I see your eyes

After the gin

I see through your eyes

And it breaks my heart

Like just you and I see 

(And the rest of those… artists)

I see through

To you

From the stars

I feel passionate tonight

Out here with all these stars


What the fuck is going on on Saturn tonight

What the fuck is going on on Jupiter

All those moons

Is that storm still raging

The moon is

Blue and half lit

Feeling like romance or tragedy

Drama for sure

A long kiss or a long last look

Tears or a broken heart taking someone to their


Me, either way, longing for touch

My heart pounding

Wishing you or you or you were here

I’m standing here drunk on wine

Cold in a pair of slippers

With no socks

Craning my neck back

In the driveway of my parents’


Who is out there looking back at me

Wondering what the fuck is going on here

Is that storm still raging

It is

It really is

He comes out, in a bathrobe

Or was he here the whole time

Across the street

Staring up like me

Feeling alone, but actually not

Feeling some type of passion

From the stars

Los Angeles

is entitled

New York

is pretentious

Feeling desperate

Like sinking in water

With tingling and growing lungs

Bursting for air

Hands gripping for the white caps

Hovering above

And running from me

Feet pushing off the mass of gravity

As it presses me anyway

Pushing me down

And down

And down

Dancing body flailing for life

Feeling desperate

I just want to float

I just want to swim



The table is set for you.



My body is prepared for you.



The legs are opened for you.



Like milk and honey for you.



Like wine and bread for you.



The closest you'll get to a 



The closest you'll get to


In the mornings

I'd step out onto those sun-faded rocks and

Feel the sting of the heat beneath my feet.

Fruitless olive branches,

Squirrel-grounded avocados, and

One giant orange tree

Cast dark shadows on the chalky ground.

The sweet and light fragrance of

The orange blossoms

Pressed against my lungs from the

Shallow breeze.

But it was deep,

Deep enough to lure me in most mornings

To reach up for ripeness,

Comb between branches, and

Toss the ground for any healthy thing

Left from the birds and bugs.

I'd squeeze and pluck and

The juice would run down my wrists,

Drip off my elbows, and

Hit Henry on the nose.

I'd hold the bottom of my shirt out

Like an apron

And fill it up -

Five, six, seven.

I'd fill it up to make cups.

It took almost four oranges to make a glass.

We didn't see much water in the dry months,

And that season seemed to last years.

But when the mist would come in the mornings,

And the haze would hang until noon,

They'd drip and drool out that honey

Thicker than you remembered it.

With wheat-colored grass under our feet 

Cameras in our hands,

Hanging from our shoulders, and in our eyes,

We cling to each other (auto-advance),

Our hands full (auto-advance),

Finally alone (auto-advance).

We sneak into a boiler building,

Open the unlocked door,

And find warmth, timing and promises ready for us -

I'm yours.

Rusty glasses, wheat-colored grasses, hair, sky, skin.

I'm yours in the secret, unlocked building.

I'm yours in the shade and shadowed.

I'm yours in the valley.

I'm yours on top of the cloud hills, above the mountains.

I'm yours in the blinding sun on the wheat-colored grass outside of your parents'


And on every single one of your beds.

Honest, Yours.



My hands are full - full of your hands.

Your hands on me.

Your hands full of me.

Keep your hands open for me

to fill.

Melt into each other until

We become one hand holding itself.




I’m still healing

My throat closes up 


Like it used to

Before you were mine

Back when I used to pretend

That I was happy

Is this what that is


My eyes tear up

Turns these photographs


Like your eyes used to be

When you were mine

When we were happy

But this isn’t that


I check in on those straight lines

To see that keystone

To look for some hidden thing you found

I scroll until I see my face

At the bottom

Wondering if I wasn’t going to

Be there at all

And I knew before I called the shot

That I would still see how you taught me

How we saw, anyway

Lined up

Double exposure

It haunts me every frame

In every skyscraper

So I put my camera away


But the half exposed negative is still there

In my mind

The sound bath

Held like a new born


Crying out.

The darkness directing focus to the only source of light-

The crystal bowl in my hands.

Eyes mesmerized as weight becomes visible,

The sides folding on itself as it sings,

And then nothing audible at all,

Just darkness, groping and turning,

Melting and warping,

Into pieces as long white ice cubes.

Hot body,

Twisted knee,

And heart attack -

The yarrow as the MRI

To the uterus

And to the trauma of holding on to you.

The blood clot-less

To birth the lining

To push out a baby that could be there

To make sure it cannot live-

Just this bowl,

This nightmare,

This beautiful, unhealthy fixation.

Goddamn, we have something don't we?

How has this low hum, resonating in our chests,

stretched out for so long

from such a thin breath?

Rereading the love poems

I've written to other men

And finding you in between the commas,

The breaths,

Feeling you in the rhythms,

And catching them as responses

To poems written for you,

Noticing how long you've been


In this heart

Molding her and

Building a foundation to understand what man is

What king is.

I taste the raw of my lips

And there you are

All over the kissing,

In the secret-

Now the new day.

I feel you above the fog.

I look toward your side tables,

And even more, there are no tables at all,

Only a heavy mattress

With the weight of women who couldn't

Meet you

In vulnerability

Leaving you - fruitless.


In this pure gold.

I come to you

Half way

And hold out my hands.

I feel your steadiness

Alarmed and excited

I feel your gaze on me

Two lily pads parading in the morning

Wide and awe.


I know it is you.

I have felt you in my whole self

Growing year after year.

I've drank you in the water

And I've grown you in my blood.

Deposited into my soul

By your own hands.

I know it is you.

Wide and awe.

I know it is you,


I saw you, my lover,

Cut the marble from the side of the mountain.

I saw you turn your back to me,

It's contour mesmerized me as you dug out the stone

that was silver, white and veined.

I saw you rip into the earth

And push it down in a heavy quake.

I saw you in your reaping,

It awakened me from my sleep.

I saw you carry the mass down the mountain

And set it up beside me.

I saw your grip on the rasp

As blood blistered on your callused palms.

I saw your lungs fill with dust

And you breathed heavy, long and deep,

Sanding the sharp into smoothed,

Snow falling around me.

I saw you go back,

Harvesting out more and more

to make another and then another,

Six pillars of perfected core.

I saw you lift them up

And rest a roof of security softly over my head.

My lover, I saw you, sculpted body and sure footing

Fix toward me,

Raised arms and pressing shoulders powerfully

Take place as the final column.

And with no walls to enclose me,

I saw you love me.

I just made eye contact

With the girl in the window

Across the alley

Right before she turned off the lights

She must know I exist now

Three warm windows facing hers

But she doesn't see the rickety flooring

Of the apartment above her

And the naked woman getting dressed there

She doesn't see the window beside hers

And the knees of the girl at the desk

She can see me, but she doesn't see 

How we are all alone in our rented apartments

It's some view that I have

Little flecks of glitter of people standing on top of each other

Sometimes dancing but usually sitting on sofas

Like me right now

It's not even that late

But my lights are the only ones 

Left on

I thought this was the city that never sleeps

Maybe it's just the anxiety and the trains

My skin is sharper than the lights tonight

On the verge of a break through or melt down

Something that's going to flip some switch

All because someone I loved went through my phone

Three years ago

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