waning

Snow melts as does the distance between us

Waxing and waning like our common moon

Exposing green and brown patches

Like Mt. Fuji peeking through wispy clouds and haze.

Counting down ‘til lift off

Only fourteen sleeps until you’re here

Sharing air and no longer swapping nights for days.

Your phantom sleeps beside me

Whispering and chirping in my ear

Conversations held with fingertips

Words just as sweet

But not the same

As ones spoken by real lips.

You're flying to me as I'm dreaming of you

Distance melts away like ice on rooftops

Only one sleep until you’re here.

Amsterdam

thirty seconds off the train
it's colder than we thought
and beginning to rain


backpacks sway as we hit the ground
what a long, strange trip it's been
in cities, lost; yet everything found


dirty jeans and converse chucks
whirlwind of cobblestones, red lights
ladies offering up cheap fucks


got a place to sleep, some hash to smoke
we're traipsing down alleys
dodgin' bicycles of these kindly Dutch folk


we're picking tulips, hiding in attics
and eating some chocolates
while watching a channel that's snowing with static


a cold, rainy week in Amsterdam
was the last time that I loved you
wish I'd jumped into a canal and just swam, and swam

record

yes, you are the one.
i'm putting it on record.
known it all along.

healer

he's a doctor
he still practices, i think.
he's Jewish.
does that surprise you?

i don't know why
it was forgotten
until now.
i don't know why
it didn't make sense
until now.
i don't know why
i can't say anything
even now.

do i misunderstand it?
perhaps unsure of what happened?
how could i mistake it
for anything else?

they accused my father
but he wouldn't do that.
did anyone ask me?
'cause he wouldn't do that.

seven years ago
i remembered.
it's been seven years now since
i learned to disappear.
i think little girls' thoughts
and all hands feel the same.

he asks,
"where do you go
when i am inside of you?"

"i don't know where i go."

"why aren't you here?"

"because here feels like there.
because you feel like"

doctor's healing hands
touching lives.
i remember
one day, on the street
i held the door for him
or did he hold it for me?
i forget.

healing.
forgetting.
remembering.
forgetting.
how long does it take to heal
a wound you didn't know you had?

fivesevenfive

how do you live with
words unsaid and deeds undone?
i don't believe you.

polarization
two lives lived by one person
this is not a joke

beauty wrought from hell
even buds need shit to bloom
guilt pangs with each kiss

bentoverbackwards
still can't see things from your view
how nice it must be

what motivates you?
soft lips and willing body?
beauty is skin deep.

Girl A. Girl B.

Girl A.
Girl B.
Livin' in the same house
but they've never met.
Sharin' a roof,
and a door,
and clothes,
and a man.

Girl A.
She loves sunshine
and drinkin'
and lovin' 'til it hurts.
Loves givin' and givin' and givin' 'til it's gone.
Ain't nothin' left to give.
Singin' in the shower
knows the words to ev'ry song.
Ev'ry song.
Dancin' in highheeledshoes
blisters on her toes.
But she just laughs.

Girl B.
She forgot that there's happiness to be had.
Her body touched by rough, old hands.
She's the only one who knows.
Keeps the lights off,
and the tv on,
and the sink full,
and the babies cryin'.
She loves her man but questions her man and hates her man and asks her man ahundredtimes
Why?

Girl A.
Girl B.
Passin' each other in the hall.
Not knowin'
that it's one heart that's beatin'
and the same blood pumpin'
and the same lips kissin'
the man who thinks they're the same.

Issei Sagawa

Issei Sagawa
loved a woman
so he ate her up
and cut her up.
He wanted to soak her up.

Issei Sagawa
dipped her blood in bread
once she was dead
tasted the thoughts
still warm in her head.

Issei Sagawa
thought she was beautiful
thought he was ugly
thought she was wonderful
contagious, maybe.

Issei Sagawa
tried to hide her
in a suitcase
in a lake
but he never got that far.

Issei Sagawa
still walks with us
and rides the bus.
He might know your friends
and work with your mother.

Issei Sagawa
wants you to know
what we taste like
it might even
be worth a try.

coulda

straddling that line
between present and past

i don't miss that man
don't miss what we had

like reading a book with the last ten pages torn out
i don't ever get to know how it ends.