Typewritten words on a crumbled page
There is static as a record starts to turn
Wood grains painted appear, are not
Fingerprint texture of unfinished wood
Warmth is the color of cool tea
Smoke swirl-disperses in a still room

Brick by brick built turns to ruins
Rust as nature takes back space
Unswept leaves and snow in paving
Cracks and crunches underfoot
The temperature gives breathing room
Inhale, I stretch my lungs

The scent of dryer-warmed linens
A pulse presses skin against skin
Repeated notes twice more than thought
One time before became too much
Blowing eyelashes from fingertips
For consistency

We watch all as it changes

looking forward

My hair is wet and dripping as I type. I feel where the water is collecting breeze-chilled in the small of my back. The time is half-past bittersweet. The day ends and it begins. I am exhausted, but refreshed, and optimistic for revival. The temperature is a recovery after a defeat. The fog is lifting, and forming shapes overhead. I am wind-battered, but today’s air is crisp, restoring: a call to focus on what is in motion.

Today is a pause in the middle of a chaotic series of actions to be summarized by what comes next; it is a horizontal pause with eyes aligned to eyes far outweighing other aspects of an otherwise disordered day. To listen in on this room would be to hear voices and laughter replaced with silence and afterthoughts replaced by voices and laughter and repeated all again.

In the voices: just some chatter. In the laughter: not a care. In the silence: glances upward, thinking, and a smile for a positive conclusion. In response: an eye squint, questioning, but a smile in agreement.

Life is filled with unfortunate occurrences and futures just barely missed; it is a series of tiny tragedies stacked haphazardly one over the next. When something lines up, when two plans entwine, when your eyes meet mine, we call it fate, possibly out of confusion, but maybe out of much more.

in space

To be here again in this space this same space that I helped him secure so we could move to our separate apartments so we could both get some space. To be here again in this space this space that I carried furniture into to fill this space that I framed posters to decorate.  To be here again in this space with my shoes and my coat on the floor same as before with myself on the floor sitting on the pillows on the floor looking at watching his face. His face. His face is pointed at me and his mouth is moving and I am trying to focus but it is all just a haze. I am trying to focus on his words but it is all just a haze and I have been dizzy for days and it’s all too much right now.

Time is collapsing air is thinning hope remains but I’m just dreaming just sitting here just staring back just trying to listen thoughts fighting back – “I lost you” – I pause at the claim am brought back by this claim back for a minute as I sit there in silence looking startled seen as startled he tries to explain – “…in the conversation. I lost you for a second.” I snap back return to where I am. I start I talk I say keep saying keep looking for some sensible excuse – “I zoned out” – I zoned out I felt weird about it all I had to leave had to leave but did he lose me am I lost? How did we get here does he see me did he see me in the rush?

I’m here right now I am here I am screaming but it’s only in my head and the talking continues just continues all the same just some hip hop talk just some new backwards hat and he pulls it off he always pulls it off. I tell him this I tell him he gets away with it but he always gets away with it he always gets away and it suits him well I let him have it I have to have no choice but to watch his show and tell. I let him go. The new additions the parts I’ve missed what else has happened since I last sat here with him like this on this same floor this very same floor in this very same space that I helped him secure so we both could have some space.

Blame the Eclipse

Some animals may display nighttime behaviors, so tuck your cats in bed. Sunrise and sunset sit side by side blinding, avoid a direct gaze, but keep an unturned head. The market for special sunglasses is a spike before a crash. Take out your phone, and document in 0s and 1s, if you want your fond memories to last.

I sit in work, and I think of where else I could be: I think where you are. I sit in work, I think I missed my chance to watch something akin to planets actually aligning by your side. I think something akin to planets aligning must have happened to have had you by my side. I wish I had more photographs to help those memories last.

I think about harnessing the power of the eclipse to get back to where I want to be. I think about symbolism and a cosmic shift. I think about nonsense like the future of the past, and how rare and transient it is for paths to cross and for lives to align.

Today, I am here at work and the sun will be blocked out. Today, you are elsewhere; the sun is always blocked out.

extrapolated from

Twisted turned fallen
to a single side
clearing cluttered air
to be apparent
in n weeks’ time

we run around in circles
run through scattered thoughts in heads
we run around in circles
always ending in your bed

where it’s pieced together
on your floor
where we’re pieced together too
side by side
on single sides
the concentric shapes

of bodies entwined

signed in stone

I am fluid
Existing pressed against boundaries
I am eclipsing
Blotting out your successes and defeats
I am too aware
Frustrating to watch, to hold on to
I am human
Living with the mistakes I choose to make

You can’t understand what you understand too well; you can’t understand what I’ve told you. Rhyming couplets: chosen sounds in pairwise lines (but they also contain some meaning). I mean it. I always mean what it sounds like. I always tell you what I say. Play confused, I cause confusion. With seconds ticking: don’t delay. I wrote myself a letter and I signed it with the date. I changed the cadence or the rhyme scheme to fix a faltered note off key. I changed some words making some plans, but it’s all the same to me. Left foot taking steps in one direction; right foot holding ground: a rooted tree.

I am waiting for a wall to be built, so I can push it to its limits. So I can find a weak point or a crack and break it down with one tiny devastation.


Shrug and let the weighted world
slip slant fall off of shoulders
Sit there holding out for daydreams
while you’re counting leaves on clovers
Loves me, loves me, loves me not
End based on where it begins
Fated figments fabrication
Melting plastic burns the skin
I reached out to touch you
but eyes wide open you’re not there
Faking fantasies for boredom’s sake
to confuse indifference with a care
I’d be fine just sitting here
but act like I too want more
than to watch words form on your lips
feet pressed firmly to the floor