Skip to main content

Quiet Company

I've been sold, I've been sold, I've been sold, I'm being sold-out
It is torture but
I don't even care
Except to love you more, to love myself more
Those hot-burned tears for you as I rally to save my skin
wind down me and leave behind gold and green
and I don't stop looking
until I look upon you
What on earth...
I've been sold, I've been sold, I've been sold.
I'm being sold-out.


Sunlight filtering through cracks
in the sky
in the walls
fall across your skin
I fingerpaint across your chest
Every word
known to man
and found in you

Fresh snow
Our footprints mark us
You are here!
I am here!
We are here!
Turn your face upwards
Let falling snow rest on your eyelashes
(dream of me)
Let the white melt on your outstretched tongue

Sing.
It's spring.
Just one word.


I'd sit across the hall
looking upwards until I saw the flicker; light on
Sit with you while your busy hands rolled over these plains, these fields
The stretches of nothing
(Look at me. Just me. Please.)
Sit with you in the after-moments when another dream snatches you away in to the darkness.
I still do.
But now sometimes I don't.
(I still talk to you. Only you.)


Aerosmith (again)
And it's true.
Now I could gain from this. I feel that in my bones as surely as I feel
your fingertips inside of my own
Pages of space
Stacked into lined-paper
A heart for one for all
x3 +1
Done.
No. Run.
Purple clouds. Purple Sun.


Ride the snake, ride the snake, ride the snake
Until we get to the lake
Where I can wash my hands and hair,
but leave my heart dirty, messy, pure.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Boxing Day

Countless times, on the weekends when you are here, you leave for me a stream of yellow in the bathtub. Something angled wrong in this 160 year old building. Sometimes you hit the tiles, as you whip your dick to the left to spray. Do you hold a finger over your pisshole? Do you laugh inside your head? I don't want to know. She bathes in there too.  I have been kind even letting you here. It is only because I love your father.    It is May or June, I don't remember. As sickness washes over me and the rest of the planet too, it can be easy to lose track of time. We tend to the plants, stroke their leaves and name them all. We watch the cat grow fatter, as she lolls in the sun on the stolen chair cushion she's dragged to the hard cement balcony floor. I feel like I know Gamer Chad better than myself and she complains about Jordan Peterson. She can't stand his voice.  But I am more tired and angry on weekends. I tell my her so. I tell her my solution. She tells me she...

Unending Paper Chase

You check in on me when you get your break for lunchtime now. You never used to. You ask me, "Are you all right?" You breath in and out hard once through your nose, like it is a chore to even ask. It seems to me that for you everything is an obligation, even holding my hand. Everything you do doesn't feel like anything more than surveillance now. I don't want the days to end and it is getting harder to sleep at night. I am starting to feel sick, like I have the flu. I'm always cold. But I haven't eaten much lately. My stomach is filled with acid. I smile at you anyway. I write two letters a day. One to keep you smiling and one that tells of the truth, but they both look the same. You do not know that I form certain words and sentences in a way that triggers me, in a way that reminds me of what is real. It is something that I started doing in grade school for tests, so that I could easily remember the answers, and then later, so my mother would not underst...

reruns all become our history

"You are ignoring my question. Still." She's angry, 45 minutes later. She is always angry after the friends leave. It's the same old shit. He's fucking tired of hearing her voice. That accusatory voice. That shameful voice. The one that demands the answer to a question he's forgot. How did this all start again? Instead, he walks over to the sofa and sits down beside her. He takes her hand in his. He just wants it to end. "They are our friends." She shakes her head no. But she keeps his hand in his. Her phone goes off. It makes its sound. What's the name of that song again? it feeds, it grows