We can run side by side together if you'd like.
I don't mind if you get ahead...
I will watch your hair flickering in the distance and keep running
toward you.

Some folks, you see, they don't know the pleasure it is to watch
as you jolt and push and pant.

In the end what if I were to come upon you
sprawled in the grass with your ears red from the wind?
I could lay my body next to yours!
Tight against the earth
vertigo
together
looking at the sky as we let our breathing slow.

I think a couple of hours passed. The wind outside was cold and the sun dimmed

slowly I sunk deeper into the cushion of your couch and you leaned on me. Or I leaned on you? I only know where we landed, I guess,
on our feet and walking out the doors. One after another. Leaving.
I wrapped my scarf tight and concentrated.

the thought of the kiss (that struggle - the thought!)
I said "I see, well, let's get some food then" or something...


But more importantly than all of that
why the fuck is any of it
potent enough to even create a memory inside of me?
it was just
some day.
You are just some fellow.

She lay on the bench stretched naked with thin and curling tattoos spanning her whole body that I'd never seen before. They wrapped her thighs like weeds, wound up her stomach mounting the ribs I knew so well. They lead my eyes: I followed to her wrists and fingernails.
Her hair was different but I didn't comment. Instead I slapped her thigh and again with the back of my hand. Then her belly. "Where have you been?!"
Instead of answering my scream she calmly pulled me to lay on the bench with her where we didn't quite fit and my shoulder hit the table. But the company was so nice... and missed, and welcome.
In the silver light the wood of the picnic table looked wet but wasn't. She was dry and cool. I don't know who's birthday it was.. their candles were already blown out, sucked on and sitting on the edges of the bystanders paper plates. I couldn't hear their talking and since I couldn't feel their eyes either I didn't pay them any thought and lowered my cheek to her sternum for a quick moment before leaving.

Around the corner near the woods I met the man again. (This is all about self control, right?) Standing with my head all the way back: the stars were brighter, brighter and brighter as he finger fucked me. Down to the leaves -- his knees and my back. So it went. On my way. (Maybe not about self control at all... oh, fuck! everything is about self control.)

To family. To the end of this. I found my brother's ship and we went to space.

Say goodbye...

fucking bisexuals.

the alternative.

I wish I didn't know my face.





hideous voice
tells me in misleading groans
sever
swallow

cataract

I give my struggle
and the fog bonds
opacity

I want to throw it up.
Out of me.

After a while you won't want to come back anyway
but I don't think I could believe you if ever you did.

These lines are in my face.
I'm older now



I love you.
and
it moves me in the deep places.

Drunk on sake with the tv muttering in the background I smell paint still wet
I have some sticky around my ankles.
These jeans don't belong to me.

Sleeping upside down every night. Big spoon (I love your body) Dear friend show me what you are
I will happily keep you warm at night.


Good or bad, who cares, they are all secrets anyway.

from the throbbing throat
comes the call

we are simply human -- no other elevation
no lace or frill.
The edges of my mouth only become my cheeks
which only cover bone.

He heaved that dog all the way up the hill behind our house
Wet fur and maggots coming right out his ass
Papa sweating.
All the smells thickening in the heat.
I've seen him cry a hundred times but
these tears came right out of his chest
he didn't breathe.

the truck made it town, anyway

doesn't she just look like a movie star?

Last night again--- my dreams are staying with me.

a river of people swimming frantically away --towards safety-towards the other shore-mud and tall reeds.
A bus and a Native American lover. Gut pulling fear and being held from behind. Big hands on my face that I might never feel blood warm again. Kissing and licking them and feeling his belly against my back. "don't you do this to me"
sharp want
sweat stinking trunks of cars
gunshots

My chair is blue and hard. I feel the tiny rivers in it's surface
and my arm is bruised
Inching all the way around the skin puckers and shines.
The hair folicles stand up and curl at the ends.


I slept in my car on the street.
I worked for poor jazz.
I haven't thought like this in a long time..
I had hoped I never would again.

Soft baking shoulders
bending into and under
currents of sweet breath.

You couldn't be lighter on your feet
with water curving aggressively around your calves
keeping us both half hoping.

The dance fumbles
thin as air
expanding inside my chest.

This motion is the pearl of the afternoon.

Slowly all feet murmur in the morning fog
and lights shine from the walls of locked buildings.


I don't need to control my mind to have a happy life...

I said what I meant
(not so eloquently like I had hoped)
and kissed her feet

"your love is boundless"

I was suprised by the letter but it fell right into place as if I'd already carved perfectly sized little holes for the words in my mind. Ready to hold them comfortably and let them rest.

another reason to keep.

What did I say to Woods?
Freedom, I think.
In as many aspects of the word as I can fathom.

I remember when you left.



I kept your hair in a box for years
and when I found it it was as soft and perfect as that dusty afternoon at the train station when you made the cut and pressed it hard into my palm. It's all bittersweet now. Time moves and builds our callouses so that these small sensations can't prickle us every time. These took years to construct.

I wrote, then, about all the voices yelling over the loud air and the huffing engine and of all the construction workers on their scaffolds watching us. I know well the sound of the gravel under my shoes when I walked back.
I don't know where I was going, though... each time seems like that. Bus stations, train stations, driveways.... watching you leave. You probably don't remember at all. You even forgot my body.

Don't think that I am not also thinking about all of the sweet things I will never have again.
Please.