Sing into the blank woods

do not expect answers
on high holy days.

I wonder about you
as I write letters in my head.
Have you received them yet?

Do you hear the noise pursuing us down the page?

Between us there is perpendicular space.

Portals without keys keeps you at a distance.

This is what we look like when anger burrows holes in our hands.
This is what you look like when you’ve swallowed your head whole.

Your pious ways reminds me of passion wrapped up in wooly blankets.

Cookies in ziplock bags
break apart into rocky bites

Empty apartments are seeking buyers.

A writer uses buttery prose across the page.

I cross out your name every time I think of you.
My page is filled with Xs.

This above all else is not about you for a change,
instead it’s abut me not thinking of you changing.

I come up against your language,
the camera is pointed away.

Gritty days have devoured your smile.

We ride elevators holding our breath.

There is a convex curve to your prose, untamed in its ways.

Massive data flows in chunks filling up hardware.

A frozen shoulder aches in cold weather,
something to do with how we hunch for warmth.

Perhaps I long to write better when I’m sleeping.

I remain stormy in my words because connections get in the way.

Some careless writer catches palindromes in the preface of essays.

Your thoughts mangle steel in bursts.

The papyrus tatters.

I wrote about this place, about this time without soul
only remnants, pieces of what it is, what’s the what?

We came home tattered at the edges, drunk, and listening to music that sing in our bones. You forgot how to dance with heart.

It explains the hole in the wall the size of your fist.
It explains the song beneath your mouth unable to crow.

You are sultry only because you are stupid.

You can bring your dog over, I’ve had my shots.

Crystal structures do not shatter in reverse order.

You are my destiny so stay in the corner.
I like your voice from here ‘cause I know where it’s coming from.

The mermaids have private thoughts,
I think we’ve intruded upon them.

We have a weakness for each other
but your coda of love is syncopated

You are obscured in the constant speed heading in one direction
and my path is a steep threshold waiting for me to cross over.


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