-The Canvas and the Bay-
Like a canopy he shaded my aura and contained its growth around himself.
The cradle I was lain in rocked softly by the touch of
Paintbrush strokes down the spine of a porcelain canvas
Flames flickered at the edges of the masterpiece harboring
A painful roll of lovely fire
His breath made circles towards the bay as he gazed into darkness
Only adding spark to flame; then lips brushed
The brightest of color the canvas became
The bay rolled in silent surrender to his mouth on my name
And under the canopy we shared sleep.
-Bedtime at Daylight-
An agitated twitch
Scaling my nails across my forearms
A cool hand to my forehead
A tiredness of sorts
Stripping down to a bra and shorts
Falling asleep to Sun Ray
Groggy awakening to night play
Hair up, hair down
An agitated twitch
A tiredness of sorts
I need kisses on the lips
Your hands on my hips
I want sugar in my coffee
Let’s make morning love; don’t stop me
I need a taste of attention
Your movement is perfection
I want smiles on the side
Just a thing to get me by
Let the sun wake our breathing
Let the sun leaving bring us down
Maybe in circles we run cursed
This is bad but it could be worse
You tuck disarray behind my ear
The first I’ve felt of you in a time
The murmur of your name barely passes my lips
This is bad but it could be worse
I crept to your side
And our weary eyes met
Screaming our silent words
This is bad but it could be worse
Let the sun wake our breathing
You’re the only one I’ve woken beside
Let the sun bring us down
In a tangle of sheets and broken sighs
Perhaps we should just be
I won’t let you go and you won’t let me leave
Let’s lie content in a bed unmade
This is bad but it could be worse
and in our rage I find
your mouth suddenly on mine
gentler than your words before
giving in, our hands explore
delirious, we don’t care
breathlessly parting our lips for air
Your kisses hover and fold into me
Like velvet taken from the dryer
What a clean warmth you radiate
Cradling your face in my hands, whisper
Whisper between kisses
I love you, I love you,
Terrified and reckless but secure
Hovercrafts in a purr from the stars come down
In a blur of lights I am blinded, seeing sound
Bringing you close, slow
Whisper between kisses
I love you, I love you,
Don’t play that song
Don’t let your hands caress the strings
Don’t allow the notes to sing
Don’t let them hum or ring
But, still, maybe, except
For a second let sound travel
For a moment let it speak
Force yourself to listen
For instinct will come after
Then, still, maybe, certainly
Words tumble from a trembling voice
An instrument of the body
Sing like breathing the song you’ve known
Music like that takes you home
your lyrics like a poisoning
they catch my breath, in silence glistening
and everything is shattered by your voice
your syllables are intimate
each movement of the mouth I won’t forget
they kiss the microphone and fall away
anger and frustration is blinding and
all at once
I can see the clarity of it all
I’ll show him
what a fucking hookup is
to prove I’m more
I’ll do what he expects and
blow it out of proportion
all at once
rage and hilarity of the stupidity
how obscene the filth
I’ll show him
what a fucking hookup is
breathe in, a surprised catch of breath
from dull to sparkling and oh!
the happy lull that pushes out in silence
and comes back as a laugh that bubbles up
fingers to the bridge of the nose
tilt forward and smirk to hide
some uncertainty inside
and press my lips to yours
rest my head in my hands
falling into that place again
not because I’m sad
but to feel my own skin
the electricity and static within
stepping between barriers
a world of mirrors that show who I am
they slice at my flesh and prick points of tension
floating up my back is bent
pressure of the energy
brings blood from my nose
I close my eyes and start to let go
nothing holds me here but my elastic fear
calm in this state of nothingness
vibrant orbs of buzzing life fill my fingertips
a wave of hot and cold passes over me
part my lips
bend my back
raise my hips
there again is the presence
tapping into my world
a stranger feeling of curiosity
something is here that is not my own
suddenly I find my feet on the ground
level with you
with a breath, pushing my palms into yours
mirrors shatter with a silent roar
clearly this haziness is something more
Why is paradise commonly portrayed as a beach?
Fuck that shit.
Paradise is being curled up in your arms
at one in the morning
and knowing I have two hours of you
before I have to go home.
Paradise is being in sync with your breathing
at two in the morning
and knowing subconsciously
that you’re there.
Tapping into the below, etching across the exterior
Splinter thin fractures, crossing confused against one another
The letdown begins, signaling the cave of structure
Broken wide, in turn it sings
Feeling all at once, what is this thing
Devious laughter at the questions
Yearns to leave, removing better judgement in the resulting stillness
Of all calamities, spiderweb feelings constrict and implode
Struck and stinging
Addicted to the feeling
Devious laughter at the reaction
Poisonous petal of attraction
Tapping into the below, etching deeper to test the strength
How far will this go
Disasters forming like tsunamis drawing in my breath
Worrisome eyes look out on the world, taking it in
Gets lost in the fabric shield showing itself
Through the normality of our regular reality
Standing so still, feeling the vibrations soft against
Everything that’s broken down and overwhelming
Already having pulled in breath, then forgetting to breathe out
Catching air in the back of the throat and
What a choked sensation it forces on the chest
An emotion for the future that is already present
Sitting much like lead at the bottom of the ocean
Suffocation to a point, and tears.
Tears at the seams, ripples in the current.
It will be so easy, easier than you believe it to be, to pack up everything you have with your instrument against your back, a lightly packed suitcase grasped in one hand and my hand grasping yours in the other. The unknown will be incredible and overwhelming and breathtaking all at once and, oh, how we’ll feel as the sun goes down and we’ll wander rugged streets made of various earthen textures when eventually but all at once we’ll find bed and from under the blanket of natural shadow I will finally be able to trace your lips with my fingertip and speak to you without using any words at all. In this tornado of people and laughter and tears, I discovered you or you discovered me or perhaps we simply found one another, but all I know in this moment with you under a new sky once again, that it’s possible for the world to spin and for everything to shift but to have two solitary figures stand, in the middle of the wreckage we call home, being together like each new day is truly a new start to things and that meeting your eyes is like catching the light.
Falling into an uncomfortable pace
Rumblings of the Earth and machine form about me
The freedom and prison they are
I rest my cheek on cold window pane
Everything I long to see passing by
My eyes shift from the sight
At the sound of your voice forming my name
Don’t say more, I know what’s to come
Settle into me, close your eyes, let it be
Miles from love we rely on each other
Held together as the world rocks and clicks
Hazy with sleep, your wrist brushed by my lips
Emptiness overwhelms at times
Regardless of how loud our unknown stars shine
Roaming has claimed parts of us
Stolen sleep, worn down our wandering feet
I’m pulled back by the rock click, rock click
To find you’ve awoken, not spoken, and taking in
All of my restless form
Upon meeting your eyes in this moment
I know I had harbored this worry only to find
That with me is the part of home I needed
And thought I had left behind
the reality about me is fluid and soft like a velvet kiss breathing in the warmth of motionless perfumed air. silky questions float like saturn’s rings about my mind as I type with rhythm and time, flawless in a state that is not generally my own. sounds are cushioned and blessed with a barrier, casting a cocoon about my little life, my world in this wild. slow down, peacefully wander with me in my simplicity.
I am like glass.
Or milky and blue china placed precariously on an edge
Or the curve of a shape concealed in a dream
It’s all a matter of time and perception.
I am like a chandelier.
Or quartz strung like wind chimes talking back to the wind
Or the arc of sound as someone breathes
It’s all an explosion of fragile things.
I am like a menagerie.
Or the steel of a knife against a cheetah’s speed
Or the confinement of bruises tender to touch
It’s all a misunderstanding.
I would scream if I could open my mouth
Lips zipped, shake no
I would cry if my eyes would open
Sleep on, shake no
Endlessly apologetic to cover emptiness
I was out earlier, I’ll make something later
Excuses that fool them, and me
I would hit a wall if I had energy
Heavy bones, shake no
Busy in mind, over thinking something small
I would bite the bullet if I was hungry
Trembling hands, shake clenched
Folded in my lap
Delicate and pinched
I would accomplish a lot if I tried to care
Too much, shake no
Please stay…kiss my mind with your breath of opinion, tangle me up in the sheets and folds of your dreams and aspirations, rest my head on your chest and I’ll listen to the beating of everything you’ve said, wanted to say, and will say in the future. Let me trace the lines on your hands and feel the places you’ve been, wanted to go, and will go with me and without me. Perhaps you’ll let your eyes drift to mine and let them rest within the magnet gaze we share at those times when everyone is sleeping and the night is ours for discovering worlds and opening doors. Intermingle your energy with me…feel the softness of my affection and obvious care that spills from the rim of the glass that beats like a heart and possesses the care of a soul. Please stay…pay no mind to things I’ve done, wanted to do, or might do again. Listen to the hum between us, those strings that sing with no conductor. You fill my mind and empty my being into everything and nothing and all that remains is a little breath of air that escapes my lips when I see behind your eyes for all of a moment. May I please marry into your beautiful thoughts?
I get drunk on you
High off your words
Tripping from your gaze
I’m craving you
Images - shoving you against a wall
Feel softness with rage from my lips
You make me want to let go and fall
Filling my lungs
There is peace with you
And intense fear, too
I’m fucking senseless
Drugged, delirious, mmm…my dear
Pull you near
My breath on your ear
Giggling from giddy madness
I want you
many empty mornings I would walk
padding on dew kissed grass
barefoot and brushing sticks and stones
mist chilling through cotton to the bone
a raw white fracture filters my vision
and yet it can’t be the sun, for it has not risen
my breath is calm but my chest constricts
it’s been three years and your name still finds my lips
-30 minutes -
stop by, darling
breathe deep as mundane conversations grow
follow me and we’ll steal a moment alone
hardly hidden, we whisper, we melt
I’ve been awake all day and you’re the only thing I’ve felt
my goodness, sometimes
breathe deep as we sustain one breath
follow my thoughts and read my lips
hardly here, we swim, we surface
let me stay in your arms, let it be my purpose
you taste like summer in winter
you float in stars with your feet on the ground
you find within innocence a sinner
you resonate an echo of delicious sound
I like to drive out, far away from homes and motels and restaurants, far away from anywhere that contains and entertains people, and I like to drive until my woozy saddened mind won’t let my foot press the pedal anymore. Then I stop. I almost always find myself at a beach, sometimes the east coast, sometimes the west coast, it all depends on what I want to see. Then I stop again. I am heart-wrenchingly sad but unmoving in my shell, then I witness the sun set or the sun rise, it all depends on what I want to see. This movement of the sun, the caramel liquor that it spills across the canvas of the heavens, reminds me that I am but one small girl hopelessly addicted to something much larger than myself and with this realization comes either further longing or an inner peace, it all depends on what I want to feel.
I can honestly say that I am almost always comforted by the waves and their rhythm. It reminds me of you sometimes, how a single wave falls back and is lost into the rest of the sea water, but at some point I know, that the same wave will return to brush lips with the shore once again, maybe carrying new things within the curl of its rugged shape but it is still the same nevertheless. This is why when I’m sad I drive and drive and let myself be driven to the ocean much like you drove me to madness and stormy weather and still, like a magic dream, upon the arrival of really knowing you, you drove me to peace and reflection and breathless dimensions in worlds we formed and placed into photo books with our writings.
When I’m sad, I let the ocean speak my mind. I let the wind caress and tangle my hair like your fingers used to; I let the sand cling to my skin like your scent, and I let the gulls cry louder than I will ever allow myself.
With whatever time we both have, come, interlock your fingers with mine and allow my smile to meet yours and we’re so very young darling…lets fly across the ocean and sail in the desert and marry the mountains and dine in caves and unearth gems within one another.
I have you.
You’re no more mine than the sky or the sea but maybe this romance is something more for you like it is for me. I only hope that I can capture your heart and steal you away and be the one who has the privilege of kissing you awake every morning. I’m hooked on you…you and the trees and the birds in Peru, how they soar from the leaves and how I revel in their sudden beauty. They form a place in my mind alongside the space you claim for yourself; you are nestled into my thoughts just as I am curled into your arms…see how we interlock like a key in a lock or a piece into a puzzle or a train on its tracks, we meld into one another and life will look upon us with an aching sigh of jealousy but wouldn’t dare have us apart for long.
I could easily spend a lifetime sinking in your velvet voice; it brushes my eyes in the dawn of the sun, kisses my lips as the misty morning fades to clarity, wrestles with my laughter and vocabulary when I’m suddenly too caught up to speak…that’s when you pull me to my feet and smooth down my hair and tell me to get dressed and with hint of a smile you say I wish to do everything with you.
Sometimes silently beckoning with my eyes
You’ll join me - across the table or by my side
This will be how we settle
Our discussions, fears, excitements, or minds
Comfortable with our energy here
Whatever it may be
We hold hands over the table cloth
Harboring roughness but softness that we possess
Here is the anchor
Our love is the wind
Scattering as we leave
Upon coming home, reeling in
The water murmurs and laps at my heart
A fire, this water could start
Overwhelming fear with this realization
Then you brush my hand
My eyes lift to meet yours
I wish I had the strength to stand
But why leave this table
When my heart already soars
You, the light that brushes its golden glow over the corners of this quiet little home, the silence that hums and runs its fingers over the living and bedroom walls, the scent of rain and earth and spice lying over the furniture and the bed sheets…you are the light footsteps down the hall, you are the presence on the front porch beckoning company, you are the crickets on nights their wings are a symphony, the honey on my lips and the bitter in my coffee…you are my dream.
Last night, tonight, and tomorrow - whispering your shades across my skin, the dusting of colors radiate from within, fiercely prominent, still gently your fingertips kiss mine. Stunning and subdued, you capture and contain the light and the darkness that hugs you like all of the joy and sorrow in the world. You are the catch of breath at a falling meteor, the relaxed motion of striking a match to bless a candle, you are the oceans and the lakes and the voice the water makes, the sound of the strings that echo in the canyons, the salt in my tears and rain on my hair, the cat on my lap and the hands on my back…you are my dream.
I like the man
through the eyes of
the clouds, rain, stars
mostly the sun
I like the smile
through the days of
the hopeless, tired, weary
but mostly pleasant
mornings on the porch
I like how the smoke
from cigars and kisses
intermingle with the morning mist
mostly how they make love
to the chirp of birds
and in the dew of roses
I like the man
who worries not of
He is the morning sun.
play piano down my spine
as my breath trips and climbs
we’re shadows moving s l o w l y
one beating moment at a time
dream of clouds on my pillow
woozy eyes as your breath slows
still I feel you listen c l o s e l y
to my humming melody vibrato
kiss death and feel divine
see how our love patterns rhyme
shudder flutter feelings q u i c k l y
find steadiness with your hand in mine
sway to the sax singing
circle my hips with a turn of your wrist
look how we breathe in the sound
slowly the room turns round
love your rhythm with my step
everything about your breath on my kneck
feel the song and arch to your hands
dance with me, cancel your plans
At times I would worry at the thought of leaving my little home behind. I admit to being a creature of routine, a human of many silly habits. How I hang my keys on the desk peg, how I kick away my shoes and sling up my bag. This is the only world I’ve known, the only life I’ve had.
And you came along and it all went to hell, I spent my nights in your arms and dreams and just like this, oh! How I fell. On the mornings I found myself in my own bed I would wake up with your music in my head, crazy in love and dissociated from where I was content. Drowning in the constant ebb of displacement, I struggled with where I would be happy and where I could call home.
So many times I would dreams of the open world, so many spaces to call and claim my heart. How would the air feel in my wanderstruck lungs in Italy or Spain, Germany or Austria…and with these thoughts came the sinking feeling that a part of me was indeed missing from each place.
For what would home be without you? You and your kisses and your smiles and your laughs. You and your dreams and your music and your energy.
You are home to me.
Fluid and soft, filling the lungs, our warped shadows brush our still bodies with surreal reluctancy, a weighted human exhaustion claims our whispers and contends to flood our drowsy eyes with firefly visions.
Clockwork heartbeats carry on with familiarity, a lick of bubbling warmth in the bloodstream forces your sigh and I revel in its taste on my parched skin.
Electricity contained with your hand in mine is delicate and severe, a hypnosis made with gentle movements and a sigh from the moon.
You are a gentle surrender, my sweet resurfacing from the earth to space, a heliotropic movement from being alone to being home.
Yes, being away from him made me furious. Furious I couldn’t hold his hand or kiss him; furious I couldn’t make him laugh or sing him to sleep. I wanted to throw miscellaneous objects at my bedroom walls from the irritation. I wanted to cry and be angry, to take out my pent up frustrations on something, anything, to get it out of me.
And all I had were my fucking pen and paper to try to explain how I felt. To try to convey such a feeling within my simple writing would be futile. There was never truly an escape for me, not in my guitar or my books or my tv shows at 2AM when I couldn’t sleep because the bed was too empty and his scent was too present and his shadow of a memory too clear.
Yes, being away from him made me furious. Furious because with my wishing for his happiness I was oftentimes condemning my own. Furious that I never minded, that his smile was the only form of happiness I really wanted.
All I could do was silently reprimand myself for being that way, still deep down knowing I was the luckiest girl in the world to be held in his gaze, his arms, his love. Because no one really knows what to do in love anyway. Because besides being furious and restless with myself and with him, it all went away the moment he returned home.
And all I had were butterflies.
My heart is about to fly out of my chest with longing.
It flutters as a caged bird would - trying to escape this cage of limbs and hollow sighs and rocket to your side.
Like rain you sleep - the pattern of your dreams as soothing of a rhythm as water on a pane, or running delicately down ones skin.
I find my heart beating like yours - this drowsiness pulling me under where I mingle freely with your aura, claiming finally what was surviving so far away. The taste of pleasure is pinned to my mouth as curves brush the walls and make Picasso shapes in the darkness.
Comforting I find this all to be, too
Only two more nights away from you.
Called to tap upon your door, knuckles rap softly and then
A lightbulb turns on and I begin to take all of you in, all of your face - eyes, smile, lips, hair - along with how you stand and the clothes you’ve chosen to wear and amidst this hyperdrive of attraction I must try to reel back and take one thing in at a time. What comes from this is how quickly my eyes lock with yours and
Like being kicked in the back of the knees I’m down in black space, delirious and drinking in the colors that adorn your eyes in the light from your gaze. Two seconds - undressed and in your arms - time flies when you stop breathing and drown in one another. Awakening. Planting my lips to your ear and with a purr kiss you there in my sleepy stupor, high on your scent and you skin warm on my glowing body.
What a hum we encompass when dying together.
“Everything will be okay.” You told me gently, and with a single hand reaching to me, your fingers cupped around my neck, your thumb resting reassuringly in front of my ear. I only gazed onward into your paused face; surely you were waiting for my nodding smile. Intensely I felt in that moment a flash of sadness to your sincerity; perhaps I felt as though you were lying in order to console me, either that or everything would really be okay. This feeling passed through me as quickly as I realized it was there and then my world collapsed into an atmosphere that contained only you and I. My hands came to rest on either side of your neck, fingers brushing and tangling in your curls, inhaling the softness of your intentions and the electricity you emit when loving me. Then a smile tugged at my thoughts, whether or not it was mine rising up or yours trying to get to me I won’t know, but I moved into your kiss with a sweetness that is meant only for you. Then like a bird I nestled into your shoulder after pressing my lips your neck, and like this I found solace in your heartbeat.
Everything will be okay.
The swell, a heaving motion and maternal in its ways, hugs sound beneath its curve and wraps bystanders in a shell of suffocating lust.
From high to low the keys sing with color and sporadic precision, contradicting tracks of thought and peeling from its depths a cry as soft as a child woken from sleep.
Its voice is heard from streets down and from across the coast; it’s strung with relentless undertones that emerge from a tidal sadness for being played wrongly, neglected in the bustle of distracted lives.
This is an island made from bittersweet emotions. This is a song lifted up on waves of venomous rage, conveying sounds of heartbreak and renewal.
This is a piano, and these are the keys.
His breath on my ear was an ocean, a cupping made to the ear in order to hear the waves when drowning in the heartbeat of a city.
His whispering lips on my ear were a gale, a summer gust of salt air and crying gulls lusting after the clouds.
His drowsy breathing was my hypnosis, a spell woven like the trance of the moon on turtle hatchlings, spun from my innocent gift of self and held by trust much like a ship is held by the water.
His back was my treasure map; I traced a path of constellations through his smooth sky and my fingers rose and fell with every breath from his floating dream.
I lift shells to my ear to hear his life, I ponder the ocean’s faithfulness to the sand to understand his love, I reluctantly leave his bed so I can again relish the feeling of crawling back in. He is my ship of mystery, he is my lighthouse when I’m lost, he is my lullaby, my wave maker when I can’t sleep.
He is the sea.
Pleasing; perpetually passionate and persuasive
His midnight gaze adorns my skin as the glowing moon adorns the sky
Caring; captivating and compassionate
Twinkling planets, two pools of spreading wisdom and complexity
How soft they are when they come to rest on me
Musical; movements and musings and mansuetude
A gentle welcoming, an open hand awaits colored dreams
Cradled in his sedated energy, I fall back asleep
He was the color of stained glass. He was simply an extravagant and vivid movement of shades, appealing blindly to deaf flowers and complimenting a variety of petals and yet his tattoo was temporary. He was a child, but by no means was he young. He devoured intellect with his breakfast espresso; he snacked on wisdom and curiosity and for supper he sipped on vocabulary words and wine. At times he was an alive and breathing ghost with a sullen head of hair and shadows nesting beneath his cheekbones; this hollowness he wore like a suit jacket tight around his shoulders, inducing a drunk reality and saddening quality upon his distinguished features.
He carried potential within his colors, this weighing on him more than anything else he ever held. He craved criticism but was often discontent with the critique; this made him seek judgement more often, so more often he would lose a part of himself again. He was a vicious cycle of desires and dreams, each new goal haunting his ghost more than the previous one.
He was complex, complicated, and confined to a point…he confused me. He interested me too, and held me like a hook kissing a fish and I was gasping, unsure of how to breath when not drowning. He was the first sun ray I saw in the morning; the first peak of dawn to cusp the traffic lights on days I drove to him in the interest of meeting his rhythm in slumber. He was a humming static shade of something I had never laid eyes on before. He was indeed love; he was the very meaning of the word and every intention behind it.
I wanted to give him breath.
I wanted to give him the mountains,
the clouds on the highest peaks,
the heat of a meadow’s embrace.
I wanted to give him flight,
to give him a push off his realistic feet and have the wind whisper his fate.
I wanted to give him a taste,
a lingering flavor of soft vanilla and candy to remember my night-time lips by.
I wanted to ensure his happiness,
to remind him of why he fell in love in the first place,
to give him a vision of what could be if he follows the notes correctly.
I wanted to cradle him, always,
But I knew it couldn’t be.
I wanted to plant my lips to his thoughts and marry them to mine,
And I couldn’t, not always.
So I learned to want for him
In the crowd I would sit surrounded by busy minds and ticking times,
yet I would feel somewhat alone by my focus on the many lines,
the many rhymes of melody and sound.
I would listen as if I were alone.
I would let it carry me as it so often carried my love across the world.
And they wouldn’t know, those around me,
how I would touch the music and see the sound whenever he played,
because how could they.
They would never miss him as I did, not in the same way.
I longed for him to understand I would never worry.
I saw lust and passion in his eyes,
but his desires and longings were so similar to mine.
No harm would be done,
for we loved the same way.
I wanted to give him a home,
a familiar place for someone on the roam,
for a man romanced by music.
I wanted to cradle him, always.
The oppressed penis
Desirous and trapped inside
A cage of blue jeans
Got in the car. Keys, shuffling, jam- purrr. tapping gas, driving out.
Walked to class. Steps and counting, one two three four onetwo onetwothree. Sigh. Twenty-eight. Counting steps.
Got to class, sat down. Sipped water, opened notes. Ticktockticktock. Sigh. Chapped lips. Lectures, questions, quantitative reasoning.
Scanned the room. Disappointing. Counting seconds.
One two three four onetwo onetwothree. Displaced sound waves - a door opening.
Glanced away from notes and up. Appearing from the doorway. Suddenly
Like a disconnected channel on the fuzz, I blurred and came together as whole.
His eyes met mine.
He became my complete sentence,
a series of letters and vocal narration together in “hello”.
galactic hues of red and blue
colorful pools of me and you,
synthesize our star-lit dreams
arouse them into concrete things.
make of ocean air a voice
calling to the heavens choice,
it sweeps a wave tall and loud
and touches on a moonlit cloud.
the moon, she summons all her glow
and pulls with her the stars to wisdom’s flow,
and gracious in her power brings
alive in us flutters of wishful things.
sleepy questions adorn our spoken sound,
surely curious, wondrous, at the world around and
closely now, between crumbly sleep and what might be true,
are galactic hues of me and you.
Like whispers she stole
away the silence
Like kisses she took
his breath into her lungs
Like flowers she pulled
the sun to her embrace
Her eyes deceived
the calmness of a storm