free form

I certainly do enjoy

Walking into a classroom with

Sex hair, and

A red nose, and red-rimmed

Eyes, because

I’ve been crying, I’ve been

Crazy, it’s been

Quite the day and you

Wouldn’t believe and,

Don’t need to know:

I am

Working through shit

And I’m

Waltzing past

your wandering eyes

Because

Power

Is sexy, and freedom

In crying

Is sexy, is healthy,

More important,

I can have both

I can cope

However

I want.

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It took almost a year to realize-

Experience dictates that love is:

something that you must save.

/over/

Something you have in abundance,

ready to be given away.

A gift

/over/

Admission, an

Acceptance

/over/

Explosion.

Temptation, over

A tide, a

beginning

/A/

beginning;

Love

reveals how beautiful a love is:

which can make different people

be loved

in the same way that they are in love.

scientific method

Woman:

you have become the sum

of your experiences.

You have shifted your volume,

in one static shape

felt a solid inside you,

felt your grey matter change.

You are the sum of the pain:

which trickled like rivers

and emptied-

you have known love

that you couldn’t before

took it in while your chest

was expanding.

You lost your past

like the leaking of gas

made your old life just

the beginning:

but the life that you’ve made now

is richer, it’s fuller,

like plasma, it’s burning

and bubbling.

Woman:

I know you

have conquered these months

have bared

your teeth and your nipples-

your legs are

deciding, the muscles

colliding

in missteps, impacts, in ripples.

I ask you:

Remember

how the world used to be

when your eyes were newborn

and filmy-

I ask you

take courage

if the mud traps your feet,

you’ll keep moving, it’s all in

the timing.

Eighteen Hundred Dollars

I want to uproot this life

each radial finger, dichotomous

corn-hair from the husk.

I want to pry coldhard fingers

off of it

want to unravel the cross-stitch and run.

Want to feel the road stretching herringbone-

it is what you’d recommend.

I fish bronchi of stream-water

catacombs,

out from under this sand.

Aspen-grove arms of entrapment

constrict and anchor me still

I am strong enough to unclasp them

wisteria clinging,

un-clinging,

ripping away from both heels.

 

 

 

 

I feel

suffocated.

I want to     save

myself.

more good, better

Why are you insecure about your body !?

A stranger on the internet asks,

His hands,

clutching his crotch

as he seeks stories of flesh in the cartoon breasts of my

avatar.

He’s trying so hard to get off.

It’s possible to have a cornerstone

Which you didn’t build yourself.

or maybe you did,

Not sure where it came from,

Sure what you did

didn’t help.

 

I’m laying on the couch

In some shorts

In the living room with my parents:

My step-dad says “when did your thigh get so big?”

(Size doesn’t matter unless a man’s the one looking,)

He has a grin on his face.

You used to be so skinny-minny;

I withdraw

for the rest of the day.

 

This week I looked in the mirror

And I said “I love you” to my face.

It felt amazing,

Like rolling, movement

it felt a lot like change.

 

In five years I want to

look in the mirror

And remember when I only saw hate.

I want to meet my eyes and

tell that reflection:

I used to be

 

a lot of things.

Eleven (11)

I am closing my eyes to see you.

I see you with closed eyes.

You seem,

In pain,

My hands are holding your face.

I am kissing your forehead.

Nothing else matters,

Although all of you matters.

But my love is leaving my lips.

The minute hand turns and I

Cross myself

Did you feel it?

That was my wish.

Hey, Fenway

Tell me about Tangier.

Tell me about the darkness and the dirt on the floor where you smoked. Tell me about that smell, the incense, that rotting flesh and sweating flesh and dripping sex that seeped between the floorboards. Tell me when the wind dies down and the smoke has curled away for nighttime and

maybe

I will join you.