Unhooked, our shared definition gathers its multitude of parts
under the cold blue drindl of morning.
Awaken the okapi. Imagining Africa, that’s almost good enough for me.
Felt flowing along your door: a cool catechism caught
in a mindless mid-throat mumble, ‘I don’t know yet.’
The easy way out, found, then excluded, and, my God, I’m your dog,
the alternative takes us through climaxes, upsets, and oh so many celebrations..
So good, so fine, so far, so, I think I’ll put down the remote after fast-forwarding
to the best bits best seen under the half-life of splintered moonlight.
The breeze turns to wind, verging on hurricane,
smites the trees, smites the houses, smites the body inside my body.
smites the mightiness into of the mouths of The Internet.
It’s all YouTube, 9Gag, Twitter, Reddit, and Facebook to me.
Rolled the pearls off our whine, make this one time forever,
I’m hurting but still standing tall.
Into the gararge, ignore the mirror,
favor returned, cracked up
to call up all our leverets, bear cubs, husky pups and
we shine and whine brighter and bigger without an audience.
Blinded, we fall into the step by step, upstairs,
break long moments up into periods
or something a little less posh.
Give me the sound of plants singing under light, under pelting raindrops,
set me up for the blindness of naiad revenge.
Water your trout, pull your plants up by the roots,
polish the sunlight and
I believe that takes care of everything.
I watch you in the spaces between the notes,
the sensitive drops, the strong strange dives.
In your lips lives a sadness I can taste along my molars.
Smaller now, then taller,
we’re moving so far past each phase.
Shouldering my way into crowds, always looking for you, never even considering
nothing and noone else will do,
moving constant, eyes constantly shuttering, shuffling memories and predictions,
Your face is new to me
is the best, this one is a smooth lounge of emotion, of love,
the best the world has to offer
with your smile
full of sunshine.
Taking me in wracked hard, racked up, broken and sent packing.
Scent of paper, dust, and electricity. Skin, lots of skin too.
Light, so much,
more than Sahara high noon.
I get all caught up in this