Brian, I Know

The reflection staring back at me
Shattered just by a few words
Oh Brian the girl you knew
Left me at the turn of a corner

The sweetness licked clean
By the fires blazing from those eyes
Oh Brian people change
When they get bruised over and over again

Your heart may break
But mine rots within me
With the memories that won’t fade
But don’t cry Brian, don’t cry

You can find me in every sad gaze
The reflections of lightening over rivers
I move between the veils now
Oh Brian find me in your dreams tonight


Such sorrow tumbling down
Racing through the rubble of the past
Upturning the dust of dried blood
The scabs opening
And the sorrow pulling at the skin
Tumbling down through the hours
And the days turn to months
The months disappear through a mouth
A scream seething through the broken chest
Caging the heart that shrieks
A bird caught between the ribs
As the sorrow pummels through the ground
The soul unraveled in its wake
Such sorrow seeping in the dirt
Turning into a river, overflowing the lakes
Running towards the sea
And staining the ocean
What’s the color of sadness again?
Grey and blue
And the waters roll, tense and relax
Nothing out of the ordinary
Sorrow falling from me
No different than water crawling towards the sea

They Say

You learned to open your mouth just a little
The steps follow you
You take their words into your loom
And weave the static into knots
And you open your mouth just a little
Even as they expect you to pout
Lips lather the tripping toads
That follow you croaking their words
You take those murmurs into your womb
And grow the knots that eventually spill out
Open your mouth just a little woman
There’s nothing you can offer
Everything has been made
No one needs your meddling.


Sour scent of sleep
hunger and craving
the sweetness of a smile
fading in a dream.
Love has become fiction
made up of words
building of scenes
that never manifest.
The sour scent of sleep
your hunger and craving
the bitterness of realizations
brightening in the reality
You’ve become a fiction
a lie on a lie
made up of words
and borrowed emotions.

On The Edge

I was singing along to the huff of the heater
the vapor rushing from the bell
an alarm dragged itself to my feet
a chill swept the dust away so quick
I blinked too slow
and did not take notice
of the balloons rushing out the open window

I wonder what it feels like to be this house
to be open
to close
to have locks
and to lose everything
every time it’s emptied

I am just flesh
refilled consistently by a red sea
I have heat that does not hum
but rushes in waves

I will never be a house that empties on a whim
or filled for the sake of another’s desire
so I carefully sit on my own shores
at the edge of my skin
with only the pleasures of being


Two is my favorite word. Two, to, too, too. Two divided in each hand as one. The tongue halfway on the roof of the mouth on the too, the tah, the two, the to somewhere, the too too and two fingers symbolizing peace, pointer and middle scissors cutting in two halves and halves together is a whole and whole can be severed in two broken hearts: two souls shattered to pieces, to glass that injures and bleeds two by two, by two drops falling into the mouth that sings too, trilling the vocal chords two by two, by two, plucking the soul strings so that two came to, too.

What is it about two? Two things, two hearts, two souls, two bodies, one to each and to each one too, and matters to, that the two can come together as one whole but can be severed in two again, broken too by two by two by two.

I love the word two, the woo silent, the tee resilient cutting the tongue, the middle caressing the half, halfway meeting the lines inside the opening of a sentence that can drain into the throat two by two, swallowed and nourished for the purpose, just to. Two, too, to we go, hand in hand, one by one, two together or apart but always two.

“two is my favorite word too” you say. I smile, two lips, two eyes, two ears that eager at every syllable that makes their way out of your lips, and I admire those two eyes, two ears, those lips that pucker to say, “two”.