lost.

i have lost all lines of communication. misplaced teeth and tears over this. held my own hand and rushed forward accepting fate and fear and synchronistic wanting. but such silence blinds me. there is no mastery of wordless lust! or even you, near. i have lost everything. everything this time. and though the words tie hard knots around me, faltering and caressing. i know. [i know that he is gone.]

razors.

i feel sharp. sticky. obsolete.
airs and absence and comfort are lodged deep in my throat trying to get out. seeking space. hands and limbs and lips. they retrace fate and bring forth memories long buried. i thought i was stronger than this. i've grown to know more than i wish. so sitting softly on lily pad and sandalwood, i carve secrets into my skin. singing, for faith or freedom. listening for eruption or just, a moment within.

this is not a riddle...

only a fool would choose fear over love.

prayer [true taste]

prayer. for peaceful remembrance.
for forgiveness
for sins and lust and regret
for every moment I wait for you
for every second you wish it could go on
without a word of undue persuasion.
I am not without fault
I crave what does not belong to me
I am not without fear
I taste what is offered no more
but I believe
and trust
the pain and truth of lust
and remember
to hold
and embrace
the true taste
of love that’s to come

forgotten.

it’s tearing at my limbs. shooting ‘cross my belly. obscene. wicked. truthful.
obsession dies a faulty death only to rear up night after night. again. slight worry. remembrance of broken heart, wet limbs and absence. but the heart knows no limits. the hearts seeks only truth and with it, late night phone calls, dreams or words of sex and rebirth. if only there were answers. but questions, more, keep coming. and I have no response. I have heady words and eager hands and silence…
I can calm anger. I can live in love. I can claim beauty and death at once. I can stand still in this. I can engage chaos. I can be the answer, loose tongue and a wager on how long till this is all forgotten.

love. [i forget]

it's almost 930. i'm in nyc. sitting on a balcony. alone. finally. for one of the few moments i get these days. which i cherish more and more. the sun is gone but the sky still holds onto blue. it's not even hot and it's july 2nd. some miracle. some beauty. my mind mumblings are of love. of relationship. of the unspoken contracts we make to each other. conscious. unconscious. before arriving here even. the commitment we make. to communication. to understanding. to seeing. to knowing. to holding. to respecting. to knowing what we are and what we need. so that we know what to ask for. so that we know what we can receive. so that we can embrace and willingly give that which we are confident to offer. so that we can carve out space such as this to reflect and replenish and honor our solitude when needed. when it is asked of us.

delusions. of rules and regulations. forgetting that a relationship brings flexible boundaries made to be pushed and expanded so that we can grow. i forget. i set up fences and close doors. loosing the keys and forgetting combinations. i unhinge doors to keep myself occupied, in attendance to all i'm being shown. the dance of faith and lust and love. of friendship, of long forgotten lovers, of souls, mating, underestimating and recuperating. i forget that language cannot solve issues of the heart. that emotions cannot be persuaded except through simple song or long bouts of silence with both beauties present.
happiness. growth. the knowingness of another. the understanding of the chaos that makes their world exist. the holding of their hand. the weight of their breath. the slight release. the full birth. of love.

the special relationship

somewhere between assassins, glaciers and airplanes there is a space. i can't call it love. and i won't call it lust. i won't even name it. but i will explain it. a situation so delicate. so tenuous. so filled with adoration and slight obsession. with questions and exclamation points and..................... lots of ...........'s. sometimes grief. she carries in a splash of apathy and rewards patience with understanding. sometimes no words can come. sometimes too many are uttered. sometimes all that is needed is a hug, a head on the shoulder or a look in a bar with a handful of strangers watching to acknowledge what is felt. to be reflected back again and again and again...all that cannot be spoken. all that is unknown. but felt. deeply. in the heart. on the skin. in fingers and in photographs. in words and through song. there are days one wants to walk away. there are days i want to run. catch the first plane out of new york city. and fly to you. but i would not know how to sit still for so long. or what of me you would take when i arrive. when the offering is everything. so i walk in circles. standing in dreams and changing my reality with long deep breaths and calm seeing. you are not me. there is no destiny. there is longing. and deep stirring. and lessons burrowing inside of me. transforming. rearranging. adjusting. still i cannot and do not and will not expect any little thing from this. from you. but i sit. and watch. in silence. offering up to you the simple space of my heart and the emotions therein that lay bare. for fear of the unknown is no longer an emotion i can live with. what words must speak have spoken. what wait has abated now brings fortune. and new songs bear singing.