everything at once

i spotted the first venom of the day before the blinds were pulled

i spotted you.

there isn’t any game of loneliness that you can’t tango-

we’ll pull it through.

i starve myself for meaning to be ready as new

for when she takes me,

i’ll have no clue.

spaced out, shaped into marrow,

no accessory to don,

cross-starred reversing entropy

the one black sun.

it’s in the cards, it’s in your bitter,

it’s in your antarctic hands, it’s in the

empty beautiful streets, in my teacup,

in global economic collapse, it’s in

your house whose front door is always

burning, as if that’s gonna keep anyone

out-

i light up, dragged crawling by the thousand-streeted monster breathing toxic decadence and honeyed apple eye in the heart of nothing in particular. i light up, spiked and sorry and sanitized by naivety as she awaits to devour me one innocence at a time.

(it’s what you like, isn’t it) not gonna bruise myself blue anymore, or if i will, i’ll make sure it’s done proper, done playing the ruin. time waits, time is patient, time is kind, time doesn’t boast, time is not proud. time only stirs you up

inside your skin and makes you clean

and ready

and wait. crossed out, renegade, savage snowdrop,

quiet bell. sutured string of non-profanities to soak into perfumed purity

superwaif cleverbot peak of earthly creation

nothing

nothing

nothing

i always thought i’d understand,

at some point, open my eyes and there,

a world of meaning, there, myself in real flesh, there, blinking miracles, there,

clear-cut rays of truth making you come,

i always thought.

someone’s at your door, someone’s

begging, we don’t know who that is.

i watch him from the window

planting his feet in the garden, well,

now it’s done-

where am I?

the eye in I was hanged to dry

the storm, she blew it off like just another bad day,

and now we’re in the hollow temple, serving our tea.

reset

rewind

rewrite

our bodies, strange alphabets

in the sand.

the story retold, now from the perspective

of a small man watching you and only you

drink coffee at seven a.m. on crowded street.

the song remade, now with casual crying

and screeching in the background as a voice gently orders us

to be exactly as we are.

these small things captured

in the dark circles of your eyes

as you look away, trying to recall

that one time when…

unfolding

fire slipping through your thumbs, setting

the air ablaze, shaping

the space around you in cherries and swirls. your hands

are the tools of an architect running wild, the soles of your feet

grow roots through the earth to the stars below.

you are a string to the universe, entwining

its strangest melodies in the pattern of your dance,

you are the cure and the disease, the peak of the morning

when light claims her kingdom once again,

the forward pull of a blood orange horizon as the day recedes,

gently asking for permission to stray. you are

the compass that straightens your spine to the top of the afternoon,

day after day, the dancer swirling the stars to midnight,

the moment between one breath and another, to die

and be reborn, always in small doses. the night in me

bows to the night in you, endless and forever entwined-

and now we are running barefoot through the sky.

churches

 I was waiting on the doorstep, abandoning any reign, reason in tatters

as parades of absurdity unfolded one by one- 

losing the formula for distilled feeling

and left with pure poison instead,

sipping on itself from the blossoming cup,

devastating, cureless,

eating up the entirety of now.

I was waiting in front of the altar for the rituals to begin,

with you as priestess, to give meaning to chaos and freedom to musts,

forgetting that the pages turned and I'm not in that story anymore,

the one where I can even dream of these things;

left only with reactions instead of naked perception

and weary of sights.

Are we still wedded to an image?

With eyes closed we should transform it all.