winter.

little confusions

what hurts and what is right?
                  you are here, fully equipped
                  with fireplace and candles.
At night, I try to make my mattress full
with your presence by
tossing and turning and filling it with sea water.
I try to pull real, sophisticated imagery out of your lips
but, we prepare breakfast in a different set of circumstances.
Before this, my room is bright and you, in turn, are glowing with us.
I want to know what you think as you send me to space.
The moon, vases breaking.
Leave your mark on my neck
and other places.

magnetic poetry

Super 8

I've seen the beauty  of evasiveness.

That pure lack of intensified delight. 

Always leaving our tongues

leading us to something half dark,

half human, with all the push and pull left in tact.

And maybe this time you fade to black; 

the soft grain consumes my field of vision or I look to my left for just one second. 

Maybe this time the black will give the deepest pleasure: the severing of the stomach or a cut to an ocean view. 

eyelids.

some pictures with quotes. going to Oregon tomorrow. ∆ 

Bad News.