another try

draft 1:
are you better? are
we on different planes, served on
separate plates; driven apart.
i have no self i have no
shelf for all of this...

draft 2:
goodbye, today has been
one long goodbye
(i would like to lose my virginity
on the last day
that i see you)
i am, however, unsure to whom
my hand is waving--
to you, silly thing--
or to the mirror?

draft 3:
i do not know the phase of the moon.
i am pursued.
i am a pursuant.
the orangepinkyellow of tonight
will not be forgotten
the synapses will hold. the
cosmos are incorrect.
these things do not happen without
words, beautiful words.

contact

breathe. do not jump, do not twist.
your spine cannot take it, friend,
your head is too heavy and your heart too free.

cramped

all of my selves, and the ones outside
the dwindling summers and the billowing sands
the landscape of my love
has been pulled
a deep, purple bruise appears
twice, once on each eye
totem to an unknowable
(unbelievable)
god

you, subtle mountains in my gaze
you, shifting shadows on the sill
you, daring thorns on wilting flowers
all of you are me today
outside of me
and the ones inside
shivering with the winter of a great, hard fall
i silence their calling, cover their mouths

why did this happen?
by what device did i end up here
incapacitated, dribbling beans and garlic
staring up at the ceiling, through it
at the painful brightness
the mountainous, shadowy, razored edge
of a cloudy day?

to see this. to see it.
all of my selves, crying for peace
are really only crying for you.
and, since i cannot have you
i must have today. i must drink all of it in.

roomy

i.

some of us are confused
unwilling to love
the trees will hug the earth
even until snow snaps their arms
what burden is the weight of love?

ii.

what burden is the weight of love
teaching others the art of it
and learning from their eyes
the infinite release;
you are no muse.
rejoice in your unimportance.

iii.

how much there is to rejoice at
the pain, tears, and crisis
your glow is vivified in their existence
your smile is brighter
with every autumn day.

iv.

each new winter my heart dies
my mind recedes into the weighty snow
you may ask
"why do you stay in the cold, cold north?"
i will shrug and smile
with each new winter i am reminded of the heavy warmth of love.

v.

there will be no weddings
not for me, not for now
for my love i cannot say
he is not mine to give
i will bask in the passion of his freedom
this is the way in which i love.

vi.

i curse your ribcage
for keeping your heart out of reach
on desperate days i would give you mine
but it rips at the fiber of love to want spitefully
it does not do to weep
love is a basin not to be filled with tears.

vii.

look at the beauty of today
undiminished by my pain
unyielding in its hearty glow
the night will descend, and the stars will shine
and while the world sleeps
i will ponder:
if the earth cannot be saddened
who am i to be so sad?

caliban

the night is starred, lover, and i have come distances. years.
finding you alone and my skin aged, my wine gone bad
i glanced in windows, i peered. i hurled coins, what little i had.
my money is gone and frost will overtake your sill
you will never love my leathered hide, my subtle will
beneath this canyon of stars (an abyss)
there is nothing left but your fogging window
and my secret, spreading itch to live
(finally)