Sunday, November 30, 2014

Sleeping Still

The time over Labor Day Weekend 2000, a near accident on the interstate made me speak your name.
And in that moment just before a certain death, I'm convinced your love kept me safe.

Another semester and I’m still searching, in the wilderness trying to find a compass, a looking glass, a star to pin me somewhere true in this sea of love and space.

Some planes crash, a phone rings—but it’s not you, I watch the unburdened weight of a butterfly’s wings. Some worlds collide, some keep barely missing. Some stars shine, some bells sound while sirens chime, some songs play that make me miss a face I have never even seen. And even if we never meet, I have no doubt should your heart stop, mine will fade too.

Like kamagarinis washed by rain, two storms that pull like magnets, we're holding each other together worlds away, miles apart, right across from, so close...if we only knew.

August comes again, the night of the 16th and I say a prayer for you before the adventure of a dream. A train ride, a treetop jungle, and the battle begins stretching to travel the map of your wandering flame.

And the way this feels, I must be sleeping still…

Like Wildfires

Our hearts were like wildfires burning in unpredictable ways...
Not knowing where to turn or to whom.

Searching for each other with the heat of desire a path of destruction could not break.

Stars dying, falling,

shooting across the sky

to be born again anew

to align for me and you.

Winds whisper change as the seasons collide,

like bones laid bare in the sunlight undone by the waning moon.

The planets moving through the motions, axes upturned, emotionless they rotate

Tilting, turning, spinning

Threatening to lose their high,

To fall from heaven, to give up their place

To die.

ton nom dans la pluie

je l'appelle ton nom comme la pluie

mais tu ne reponde pas

il n'y a que le bruit de la pluie.

pour effacer mes memoires de tu.


Your hands are criminals.
Your lips are too.

The resting bird, the ripened fruit,
wild and forbidden, they are not
yours for the taking.

My heart beats, my mouth
speaks...wings and wind, I'll fly away
in the wake of your destruction.

Your hands are criminals. Your lips are too.
But I am no prisoner.
My voice is freedom.

Cannot Quit You

I cannot quit you,
detox from you,
or go through withdrawals from you

because you aren't simply in my blood
you are my blood--

my red, resounding blood
as well as the heart beat pulsing
through each veing.

And the only way to get over you is to get over me.