i hate this empty house. 

beneath every floorboard,
a void
a yaw of wretched midnight 
clawing footsteps, pacing
and pacing
echoes banging
barbed and noosed
by nothing 

and the only thing louder 
than the bathroom fan I never turn off
than the drip of a sink, the tick of the gas stove
than the sleepless train yards and slick black streets
than the desperate, hollow orgasms in a co...

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a loft 
somewhere
sweetly scented 
as the morning dew draws up
and out
lithe against valleys
hung low
loping chariots 

phantom fingers in grass 
long and sweetlike lovers waving 
in the wheat.  

it looks like rain again tonight
hues heavy on the bay 
but my heart will stay sated
thru the gold nestled in your eyelashes

and I stop breathing,  

hoping it can be forever

to w...

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you make me feel

like a bee in a dandelion field  

nourished and sunny

and

scattered to the warmth of the wind

that carried the ocean to the plains 

to above the lakes

to the cracks I'm the sidewalks

 where we met

where we keep meeting 

where you held my hand 

and keep holding 

through the rain

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I can feel the moon filling 

rising in my chest, 
my throat 

a grip:
a commanding brand
blinding and hot
pressing down on my chest 
while my legs buck
on an operating table somewhere
then sated
by the cooling hiss 
of oxygen
(or at least
that's what they told me 
it was) 

"You're not yourself, Paul" 
a much shorter name than mine
and a bone saw plain
some numbing tune by th...

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by the flicker of my spark
by the cooling coals
beneath the hearth
by eyelids,
flittering then frozen still
where the snowflakes fall, today
where the Ash tomorrow will
our snuffed will lay to rest
a sediment of misspent youths
the rest will weigh fate's dander
o'er paths of long forgotten truths

brights buried
in moonlight
in alien sun in long-tread lost ways tr...

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lain in, thinking about 

the soft roll of hair and 
gentle exhales and 
soft, pressing folds 
filled with tiny collapsing sounds
sighs, held on high
near imperceptible if not uttered 
direct
and deep down 
and deep down
and deep down 
like the brush
of my bones
where all the gaps between could disappear 
where we don't need to know where one begins
or the other ends

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