i was unconscious, it was a dream

Sometimes, offer more than talking. Say, “I like you very much.” Say, what when cut...

Mon, 13 May 2013 22:03:04 +0100

Sometimes,
offer more than talking.
Say, “I like you very much.”
Say, what when cut grows over
pink and white?
Carnations,
skinny daisies.

Devise
a way of saving your words.
Say nothing
if it’s forced.

A list of things i’d rather not tell anyone: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Sun, 05 May 2013 18:16:17 +0100

A list of things i’d rather not tell anyone:

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.

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Sun, 05 May 2013 10:23:39 +0100

I will be squinting in the dawn, squirming like a grub, the effort of myself too heavy next to...

Wed, 01 May 2013 22:52:41 +0100

I will be squinting in the dawn,
squirming like a grub,
the effort of myself too heavy
next to the seven o’clock grace of you,
so long and soft and living.

I am bending back the spines of all your books,
that you remember who was here to do the damage-
I was her.
I was here.

I haven’t stopped smoking yet So i’ll share your...

Fri, 26 Apr 2013 18:56:53 +0100

I haven’t stopped smoking yet
So i’ll share your cigarette
Just to hold it in my fingers.

I’m moving house. (I still have your yellow socks)

Sat, 20 Apr 2013 22:43:34 +0100

I’m moving house.
(I still have your yellow socks)

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Fri, 19 Apr 2013 12:24:55 +0100

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Fri, 19 Apr 2013 10:59:02 +0100

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Fri, 19 Apr 2013 09:51:57 +0100

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Fri, 19 Apr 2013 09:50:48 +0100

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Fri, 19 Apr 2013 09:49:23 +0100

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Fri, 19 Apr 2013 09:48:37 +0100

For here he was in her world, a place few had been invited to see with their own eyes. And here was...

Wed, 17 Apr 2013 22:06:11 +0100

For here he was in her world, a place few had been invited to see with their own eyes. And here was she, wanting him there. Him, no one else.

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Fri, 12 Apr 2013 20:33:35 +0100

I wait to unburden myself of the day’s dressings (shuddering them away to lie ghostly with...

Sat, 06 Apr 2013 16:36:00 +0100

I wait to unburden myself of the day’s dressings

(shuddering them away to lie ghostly with limb-
shaped convexities
at the side of our bed),

to fuss and huddle in the cover til we face inward
in conspiracy,
foreheads burning and welded.

Oh, my heart, i want to tell you that the blood
travels faster in my body when you’re near,
even the tips of our noses stooping to meet
bloom like rosy wounds in cool water.

You gathered me to yourself through the
sweating hotel air and, still in sleep,
disturbed the crisp white sheet to say I love you
in the hoarse whisper of a boy,
so I forgave your painful beauty, the cold
perfection of your face.

All the little coastal shelves of you
await me on the shore.

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Fri, 05 Apr 2013 17:34:03 +0100

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Thu, 04 Apr 2013 20:31:58 +0100

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Thu, 04 Apr 2013 20:30:08 +0100

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Tue, 02 Apr 2013 19:48:42 +0100

Ex Boyfriends They hang around, hitting on your friends or else you never hear from them...

Wed, 27 Mar 2013 23:09:33 +0000

Ex Boyfriends

They hang around, hitting on your friends
or else you never hear from them again.
They call when they’re drunk, or finally get sober,

they’re passing through town and want dinner,
they take your hand across the table, kiss you
when you come back from the bathroom.

They were your loves, your victims,
your good dogs or your bad boys, and they’re over
you now. One writes a book in which a woman

who sounds suspiciously like you
is the first to be sadistically dismembered
by a serial killer. They’re getting married

and want you to be the first to know,
or they’ve been fired and need a loan,
their new girlfriend hates you,

they say they don’t miss you but show up
in your dreams, calling to you from the shoeboxes
where they’re buried in rows in your basement.

Some nights you find one floating into bed with you,
propped on an elbow, giving you a look
of fascination, a look that says I can’t believe

I’ve found you. It’s the same way
your current boyfriend gazed at you last night,
before he pulled the plug on the tiny white lights

above the bed, and moved against you in the dark
broken occasionally by faint restless arcs
of headlights from the freeway’s passing trucks,

the big rigs that travel and travel,
hauling their loads between cities, warehouses,
following the familiar route of their loneliness.