I wonder about you,
you touch people all day,
on your feet,
hurt.
You seem touchless.
the crystal on the kitchen table
next to your pink phone
unringing,
you left it there
because it was silent for you now.
You leaned in the doorway
after you knocked
and said you were hungry.

I drummed tonight
until my hands were numb
the rain today
loosened the skins
so resonate and deep
humming a song
I haven't ever heard before.

Let's walk while our toes
still feel the squishy mud between them.

she lit a candle of love for me
and then she confessed it was just to cover up
the stink she left in the room
and I didn't get a chance to tell her
that the models feet are always dirty
because they walk on earth
to get to this moment.
and when I paint her,
her dirty feet make her
my desire for all of her.
Though I love the light through my morning windows
drifting through a dusty milky way
I don't long for the day
when my feet are washed with tears,
dryed with your hair,
when my clean feet ascend
into some silver lined cloud
no
give me your unwashed hand,
walk with me.

I don't think you are worthy of me?

you don't hear me play for you

in my room with the two candles burning

for the dearly departed.

Instead you run away

and hide

from my stare

and it's agonized desire.

 

If you had been worthy of me

you would stare right back,

you would dare to look right on through me,

these two eyes,

to drink in all of my bittersweet intensity.

The black see-through lace
dry, bodiless, bloodless
extinct wings
fluttering silver silky web
evening

Emergence, such color
flight
vanished. Grey.

A Hunter's moon trapped
Intention feasts
on these brief forms of the lovely,
the memory of a kiss
in the belly
of a woman breast earth.

Even as I grow distant
I love you with all of my fire
descending
into the other realms
beyond this one;
where you eat me
alive, pieces,
paralyzed, silent.

I remember the first time you touched me.

I can hardly breath sometimes
in the middle of the night
those long conversations;
ones you'll never have
and yet someone must hear the words
your mouth never forms with all that breathlessness,
with the movement of tongue and lips.
No they are the ethereal sound
of the essence
not quite making it to the warm dark bed
sleepless dreams
waiting for the kiss of morning.

A million times we will break each others hearts
and a million and one take each other back
and think how good that feels
when I take you into this bed
of forgiveness
of understanding
because I want to know the things that divide you,
the things the drive you into those other worlds
away
broken
Like I am broken.

The stream flows through cracks in the canyon
I thought I would die here
walking up that mountain
(on my last day here
I will dream of your arms and die here alone
sky burial, my flesh the food for dark ravens)
and I reached the chaparral of wind blown grass
golden,
where I would have laid you down
if I were not alone here now.
The spires of rock silences
of the spaces in me
where ravens shriek
echos
through the deep parts of me
Through my dualities
through the must do because I love
through the must do because I desire
Through the million and one times I love and desire you.

Sometimes I think
I'm standing on the outside of a glass window
my hands, face pressed in to see
and like a ghost she stands there
at first and maybe never seeing me out here
and now I'm seeing you pressed in.
you heard something calling
from the other side
and you've been lost so long
in the forests of Dandaka,
so long you have forgotten
the belonging and
you feel the phantom severed wings of Jatayu.
the magical deer to please you
allusively, transform, evaporate,
and yet
I'm pressed against the glass here.
I'm seeing now I've already been broken
the red wine glass in my hands shattered
and if you press in any closer to me Love.
Crashing dreams, wind through smoke
emptied the space between stars....
you will know the longing.

ee cummings
 
because i love you)last night


clothed in sealace
appeared to me
your mind drifting
with chuckling rubbish
of pearl weed coral and stones;

lifted,and(before my
eyes sinking)inward,fled;softly
your face smile breasts gargled
by death:drowned only

again carefully through deepness to rise
these your wrists
thighs feet hands

poising
to again utterly disappear;
rushing gently swiftly creeping
through my dreams last
night,all of your
body with its spirit floated
(clothed only in

the tide's acute weaving murmur)


Emily Dickenson

Heart, We Will Forget Him

HEART, we will forget him!

You and I, to-night!

You may forget the warmth he gave,

I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me,

That I my thoughts may dim;

Haste! lest while you're lagging,

I may remember him!

It's OK I got your last message
in the space the silence left
A ring flinged into the muddied river
it's all such a dream
row, row, row your boat
gently down the stream
merily...
And I know it's all slight of hand
and my own hands fool me
into feeling
I have touched
and what I have touched
is the ragged edge of disconnection
That I offer an empty gesture
nothing but winded.

How is it that I could love you?
and the hours pass into day, into week,
years that I don't have to give you now
Other then my words
which I gave to you
and that is all
I could ever give you.

Is this how I make you feel
when I go away,
when I slip off the edge of this tenuous image world?
a world where I can't touch you
fingers, tongue, blood.
but I sent you me
in the shape of letters
for you to weave our worlds.

I thought you dreamed me?


On the pink highways of New Mexico
your phone does not answer me
I can't see you in the dust storms here
On the dark hills of Vermont
I couldn't forget you
You told me you wouldn't meet me there
I waited til my shadow fell
I paid the rent
on the cabin,
two nights I paid
and it was empty
the bed unslept in
because you were never coming to me.
How many times will you dis-invite before I disintegrate,
disengage, disappear, dis-remember?

Why, for these minimal guarded words you give me now,
do I spill my gifts for you?

And why would I care now,
now that even my words are invisible to you?

Watercolor on paper 22X14"

She wandered in
through the door I
left ajar
somehow I expected her
tonight
and it was late
my lights were on
the silk drapery
flung across the back of a chair
waiting for pause
and movement.
She was younger then me,
intrigued
is what she said,
by my work at night.
She smiled as she
undid her robe
and handed it to me
and her smile
the scent of colored roses
filled the room
and I understand now
the misty subterranean heat
of Haleakala
how it rose from the bubbling sea
Pele
and I wanted my sex purified by water
and I wanted her sex purified by fire
and the devastation and the creation
of element
is what the morning wind
through white shear curtain
painted tonight.