How did i forget
the falling darkness
the gleaming flakes
that cover places
i once laid
every blade of grass
in a deep
pit of brown.
moved by long fingers
on cold lips
and the taste of ginger
– warmth came over me
on a hallow tree
we carved J and E
in between then and eternity
i let it go
stuck in bardo
you escaped from me
yet i know
we will always have that tree.
Sometimes I’d hide behind my eyes
because of you
and I’d make a list
of all the beautiful things you’d do
I’d think about the curve of your beautiful lips
and the beautiful pulse
under your beautiful grip
and because of all your beauty
I stayed behind my eyes
until I was gone completely.
the rush of fresh air cutting into the polluted cab of a tan Oldsmobile
cigarettes given life by the dying light of another
songs that never end drowning the cusses of your parents
no seatbelts that cut the side of your neck
or keep you from letting wind rush past your ears
tall walls of rock that give legs to rows of pine trees
wide lakes to sit by while eating ham sandwiches
– on white bread, no crust, light butter
kisses on the forehead that leave red smears of affection
you shrug them off and secretly crave them when not given willingly
old t-shirts that smell like home
squishy moss under scabbed toes
lake water in your lungs
charred bass over fire
feeling like you will live forever under the clear skies
of Northern Ontario
you like to
smack those well polished lips
and adorn the colour of your hips
with shades of vitality
– russet browns.
and you crave the crowns
of velvet-clad royalty
to reach all the stars you see.
but you care not for morality
or certain realities
you find only by idling.
hands – not poised for prayer
brush knots from your sun-kissed hair
and sweep messes
under a rug of ‘formality’.
then you stand atop it all,
with hips like leaves in fall
smacking your lips,
never wondering if there’s a difference
between what is right and wrong
but why would you if you always did belong?
Katie awoke from a dream. It was a nice dream about nice things. She didn’t want to be awake, she wanted to stay there. There, the world wasn’t a cold blue colour. The world was always bright, even when it wasn’t. Maybe the dream was nice because it wasn’t so real. Like watching a movie or reading a novel; the heaviness of gravity didn’t limit her bones and blood and skin from being sky-bound. She could use portals and light waves to see people she couldn’t in her world. People who won’t speak to her…or people who have died. Katie was uncomfortable in the real world. Her skin didn’t feel like her skin. Her blood belonged to her parents and their parents and their lineages. Her bones always cracked and ached. She was aging. She gained weight easily now. Or she craved more bad foods. Or she didn’t work out nearly enough. Or she just stopped caring.
Either way, the taste of wine has never been so satisfying – its sweetness reminding Katie that she would soon forget the perils of time; the flow of uncontrollable moments that may or may not benefit her. And with enough sips she would be asleep again. Dreaming of a world far away from her own.